


Bound

by spaze_cat



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Biting, Eventual Romance, F/M, Growling, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Sans, Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, independent call girl/escort, monster bonding, soul bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-05-18 06:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5901016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaze_cat/pseuds/spaze_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are an independent call girl/escort who has sex with her clients for a living. One day, you get a call from a monster named Undyne who's looking for someone to have sex with her buddy Sans. He's a virgin, and she considers herself a good friend so she's looking for someone to make his night.</p><p>You've dealt with this before; parents or friends looking for someone to make their friend "into a man," but this time's a little different.</p><p>A monster, huh? You'd never slept with a monster before...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

As usual, you woke up entangled in someone else's body.

The client you were cuddled up against snoozed peacefully, a look of contentment on his face. You'd been the one to give that to him, and the thought made you smile.

Robert was a lonely businessman. His wife had left him a few years back because her tastes were too expensive for him. He was overworked and underpaid, and he'd tried so hard to keep her, even though she didn't deserve him. Robert was a kind man, and even though he was almost a decade older than you, you enjoyed keeping him company every now and then.

You sat up and stretched your naked body, basking in the warm glow of the morning sun filtering through your bedroom window. You almost didn't want to wake him, he looked so happy, but you had to prepare for a client coming in later this afternoon, and it was bad practice to let clients meet.

"Robert," you called to him softly, gently shaking his shoulders. He shifted, then opened his sleepy eyes. "It's time to wake up, honey."

He smiled at you, then nodded. He knew the rules all too well, and though he seemed disappointed that he had to leave, he understood you weren't his, and he wasn't yours. This was a service, bought and paid for by him, but nothing more.

He left the bed to put his clothes back on, and you did the same.

"Same time next Friday?" he asked as he made his way to the door a few minutes later. You nodded and smiled. "Okay. The money will be wired to your account as usual, expect it in a few hours at most."

"Thanks, Rob," you said sweetly, giving him a peck on the cheek as he walked out the door.

"No, thank _you_ , kitten," he said, giving you one last wink before leaving you alone once again.

As soon as the door closed, you sighed, turning to press your back against the wood and sliding down until your rear hit the floor with a soft _thump_.

"Next," you said out loud softly. It was almost a mantra at this point. You said it to yourself every time a client left, another to soon take their place. Most of them were men, but there was the occasional girl on your list, or even a few who identified as both or neither. You gave them each the respect and love they not only paid for, but deserved.

It was your job, after all.

You picked yourself up off the floor and went into the kitchen to make a light breakfast. You sang softly as you chopped some fruit, stirred some eggs. Singing calmed you after an emotionally heavy night like those with Robert.

You weren't uncomfortable, exactly. You worked independently, so if you didn't want someone, you didn't have to have them. Your client list was a careful amalgamation of people you'd sifted from your requests. You only chose those who were kind, who always paid on time, and who understood that while your services came with the emotional release of having someone to talk to, you weren't available for a romantic relationship.

It just didn't do it for you.

You'd chose this life because it was suited for someone like you. Sex was an extension of the soul, of the raw emotion and physical satisfaction that made up humanity. The concept of being in love with someone never made sense to you. Love was sex, good sex at least. It was passion, and pleasure, and the pillow talk in the afterglow of a great orgasm.

It was something you'd always been good at, making people feel good. So, you'd decided, you'd make a career out of it.

It wasn't strictly legal, but there were ways around that. Offshore bank accounts, a secondary job to explain your income, and being generally careful had gotten you this far. You'd made a small name for yourself in the escort community, but not too big, so as not to draw too much attention. After all, you weren't seeing politicians or lawyers. You were independent, unprotected by the loopholes the more professional call girls could hide behind.

You laid low, kept a small client list, and quietly slipped through life, giving love and pleasure to a select few to pay the bills.

It was perfect.

You sat down at your dining room table to check your emails. You sifted through requests for your services, politely declining most of them, suggesting other services so they wouldn't be upset and rat you out. You could never be too careful.

Just then, the phone began to ring.

Most of the requests you received were through email. Many were too afraid to talk face to face for the first contact, but that didn't mean you didn't receive your fair share of phone calls.

You answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey there, name's Undyne, I'm a monster."

The person on the other end paused.

"An actual monster, I mean," they said quickly, "Like, gills and fins and stuff."

"Oh," you said, unphased. "Well, can I help you?"

"Huh," they responded. "Usually they hang up by now. Er, anyways, I'm calling for the, uh..."

"Yes?" you urged again politely. You didn't want to suggest they were calling for your services. You didn't know who they were, after all.

"You, uh, you... have sex with people... right?" they asked awkwardly. You could tell they were uncomfortable asking, but you had to be sure.

"I've been known to," you said carefully, unable to keep the amusement from your voice.

"Good, 'cause uh, I've got a friend who, uh... needs help? With that, uh, thing..."

"A friend?" you asked. "Are you inquiring about my services?"

"Y-yeah, uh, yes," they said, "He's never, uh..."

"He's a virgin?"

"Yeah, and I want to change that," said Undyne with more confidence. "Look, he's not really into romance and all that, and he's never done that stuff, and I just want him to be happy, you know? He's done so much for me, but uh, I'm not... into him, that way? So..."

"So you're looking for someone to have sex with him instead," you finished. You could hear the nervous gulp on the other end.

"W-well, yeah," they said. "Before you agree, or disagree, or whatever, I want you to know he's a monster too."

A monster, huh? You'd never slept with a monster before... You didn't know much about them in the first place. When they first emerged from that mountain all those years ago, you'd seen a bunch of stories about them on the news. It had been a big deal, apparently, a lot of humans were wary or disturbed at first, but with time, that feeling settled. You still hadn't seen one in person, figuring you were too far from the small town they'd flooded into. You lived in a big city, an hour's drive from the little town of Ebott.  
You didn't even know monsters had sex, let alone how different it might be to human sex.

You weren't going to lie to a potential client.

"I've never had a monster client before," you admitted to the monster on the phone. "Not that I'm unwilling to try, but I'm sure there are more qualified escorts out there to take care of your friend."

There was a scoff on the other end.

"I doubt it," she said, "This is probably the hundredth call I've made, and you're the only one I've talked to for this long..."

A pang of irritation ran through your chest. You knew a few call girls who were too picky for their own good, but it was wrong to turn away a potential client just for whoever or whatever they were. You only ever turned down clients who wanted far more from you than you were willing to give, and even then you at least read through their emails, gave them the time and consideration they deserved. You even referred them to other escorts you knew, others who were more comfortable fulfilling their desires.

You were suddenly determined not to turn this one away. Not without a follow-up at least.

"I'll do it," you said, and then flushed as you realized what you were implying. "Not without a meeting first, I mean. Let's set up an appointment. Bring along your friend. I'll meet him, and see if we're compatible. If we are, we'll set up a plan for payment, and I'll take good care of him."

"W-woah, really?" said Undyne, "You're not pulling my leg here?"

"Not unless you're pulling mine," you said with a smile.

"Heh, alright," she said, sounding relieved. Then, as if she was finally absorbing the news, she said it again with more verve. "Alright!"

You went about setting up a meeting with Undyne and her friend. Two in the afternoon tomorrow, at the coffee shop five blocks down from your high rise apartment. Not that Undyne knew that, though. You always set first meetings close, but not too close to your home. You'd had bad run-ins with potentials before, and you did not need desperate strangers knowing where you lived.

"What's your friend's name, by the way?" you asked once the appointment was set, jotting the time in your planner.

"Sans," said Undyne, "Sans the skeleton."


	2. Chapter 2

You wrapped your chilled hands around the small mug of coffee you'd ordered.

Undyne said she wouldn't be hard to spot when she came in. She told you she had blue scales and red hair, and since she'd be coming with Sans – a literal walking, living skeleton – you agreed it wouldn't be hard to tell who your potentials were.

You prepared yourself for an awkward conversation with Undyne. Not about sex itself – you were perfectly happy talking about that – but rather the possibility that Sans the skeleton was asexual.

It was something you dealt with constantly in this profession. Rich parents asking you to "fix" their gay son, people trying to get their friends laid because "you've never tried it, so how would you know you don't want it?"

Not to say all those people were assholes, just that they didn't understand. Undyne might think she's doing Sans a favor, but you weren't going to let anyone pressure him into anything he didn't want to do. If he really didn't want this, you were going to sit Undyne down and explain it to her, so she wouldn't keep looking, so she wouldn't keep making her friend uncomfortable.

The door to the coffee shop tinkled as it opened, and you recognized your customers immediately.

Undyne's hair wasn't just red, it was fire incarnate, blazing its way down her back, framing her face. Her scales shone a brilliant aqua, and her cat-like eyes were a bright cadmium yellow.

Beside her must have been Sans the skeleton. He was short, maybe a head shorter than you, and he wore casual, laid-back clothes. Sweatpants and old, worn-out sneakers, and a baggy blue sweater that looked a bit too big for him. Within his eye sockets were two white dots that you assumed functioned as pupils. They moved back and forth as he sized up the place.

They were the first monsters you’d ever seen in person, and for a moment you were awestruck. It was almost strange to see what essentially was two mythical creatures in everyday attire. You felt a bit bad for thinking that way. They were people too, after all, regardless of their magic or appearance.

They looked around - or rather, Undyne looked around, while her shorter skeleton friend looked mostly bored - and you made eye contact, waving at them and hoping they'd remember what you said you'd wear.

When Undyne saw you, she gestured for Sans to follow her as she strode over to your table.

Sans' eyes found your own, and there was a brief moment where he paused, taking you in. He was smiling at you, but he'd been smiling ever since you saw him step through that door. Did he always wear that smile?

"Hey, nice to me-"

"Nice to see you again, Undyne," you interrupted quickly, reaching for her hand to shake. If you appeared to already be friends, the meeting would seem a lot less sketchy to the patrons of the shop. Especially since many of them were already staring your way. Monsters drew that sort of attention, you supposed.

"R-right," she said, scratching the back of her head sheepishly. Then, like flicking on a switch, her demeanor changed entirely. Instead of taking your extended hand she moved in for a hug, wrapping her arms around you in a death grip and lifting you about a foot off the ground.

You couldn’t bring yourself to be uncomfortable, even though she was still technically a stranger. The giggle that escaped your mouth was bubbly and airy, and for a brief moment you worried it would ruin the mysterious sexy woman act you put on for your clients. You didn’t want Sans thinking you were a total dork before you even met the guy.

Undyne finally let you down and you turned to greet her friend. The smile on his face had shifted, so slightly anyone else might not have noticed it, but you were well practiced in reading facial cues, in worming your way past the masks people wore to conceal their emotions. Where before his smile was draped on his face like a dust cover over an expensive car, now it was alive, animated. It was a genuine happiness that reached his eye sockets.

"And Sans!" you said, "It's been ages! How are you? Still seeing that Darla chick?"

"Who, the bird?" Sans asked, not missing a beat. He chuckled, sitting down at the table and leaning back, tucking his arms behind his skull and relaxing. "Nah, turns out she was a little too _coo-coo_ for me."

The laugh that escaped your mouth was genuine, and you were impressed. So, he was smart _and_ funny. If he really did want this, you wouldn't mind having him as a client...

People were already shifting their attention back to their own tables. The coffee shop you'd chosen was fairly small, and most people didn't come here to talk with others. There was the rare couple out on a date, but most of the patrons were people taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi and refills, and were sitting at their tables or chairs alone, on their phones or laptops.

"Before we begin," you said, your practiced voice the perfect volume so only your potentials could hear. "I wanted to ask you a question, Sans."

"Shoot," he said.

"In private," you insisted, looking to Undyne. She looked perfectly relieved to not be included in this private conversation about sex. She went to go get some coffee for herself. You turned your attention back to Sans.

"Is this really something you want?" you asked gently, not taking your eyes off of him. You wanted to let him know it was okay to say no.

"Heh, when Undyne gets an idea in her head, it's kinda hard to stop her," he said with a shrug. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"Yes you do," you insisted, and the smile on his face faltered at your serious tone. "I understand Undyne has good intentions, but sex isn't for everyone. If you don't have any desire for it, you don't have to force it. If you're not into it, it doesn't make you broken."

Sans shifted uncomfortably.

"It's not that I don't want it," he said, picking at a stain on the table. "It just seems like a lot of unnecessary work."

"Work?" you asked with an amused smile. Sans shrugged. There was a very light tinge of blue around his cheek bones. Or perhaps it was the light.

"Yeah," he said, "Well, for one, the opportunity never presented itself. Believe it or not, it's hard to find someone willing to _bone_ a skeleton." He winked, and you found yourself smiling. "Besides, that stuff usually comes with... strings. Attachments. I'm not exactly the kind of guy who gets invested in things."

He paused, the little white dots in his eyes – which you could now see glowed softly within his skull – shifting downward slightly. His next words were softer.

"Not anymore, at least"

You frowned. He looked so... _haunted_. And it had nothing to do with him being a skeleton.

"I can assure you," you told him, "My services don't come with strings."

He seemed relieved, and you briefly wondered who'd hurt him. What kind of attachment had been ripped away from him that made him think that way about life?

"Alright, one last question," you assured him. He finally met your eyes, and you offered him a teasing smile, testing the waters. "Would you like to have sex with me?"

Okay, that was definitely blue on his cheekbones. You wondered how he did that. He was a skeleton, so that meant he didn't have any blood, right? Even if he did, why was his blush blue?

You were suddenly very curious to see if anything else about him was blue.

Sans opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but it snapped audibly a second later. His eyes trailed down your body, exploring the skin you'd been sure to show off for him. Your collar bones and your neck, adorned with a sapphire pendant. His gaze lingered on your cleavage and you knew then that he wasn't asexual, because the hunger in his eyes was something carnal.

"Can't say I'd mind," he said finally, his voice much deeper, with a slight growl behind it.

Oh yes, this guy was _definitely_ going on your client list.

“Perfect,” you said. “Now, onto the harder questions.”

“Harder?”

“Mhm.”

You made a show of exploring him just as he’d done to you. You let your gaze wander down his body. You couldn’t see much under his oversized sweater and baggy clothes, but he really did appear to be just a living skeleton. You could see his clavicles under his shirt, and the spine around what would be his neck if he had flesh.

That was one thing that worried you. The fact that he didn’t have flesh.

“For example,” you said, running your tongue along your lips to tease him. He drank it right up, the blue on his cheeks rising, his eyes fixated on your mouth. “What _am_ I going to do with you, Sans?”

“I-I… uh...”

He was speechless.

Good.

“I take it I missed a lot,” said Undyne in a voice that said she was perfectly okay with this. She approached your table with two cups of coffee in tow and set one down in front of a dumbfounded Sans. “So, what’s your answer? Are we doing this or what?”

Undyne looked between you and Sans. You smirked and raised an eyebrow at him, and he seemed to realize a verbal answer was expected of him. He coughed.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, “Sure.”

You still had plenty of questions. Mostly how’s, and a couple of why’s, but for now, the big stuff was out of the way. You were ready to begin the standard interview. What are you looking for with this service? Do you have a stable income and/or enough money to afford these services? What are your preferences? Pronouns? Nicknames? What makes you comfortable? What makes you uncomfortable? And plenty more questions you asked every potential client.

By the time it was done, the blue on Sans’ face had disappeared, and the blush had moved onto Undyne’s face. As soon as the questions turned sexual again, and you saw she was uncomfortable, you made sure to tell her she could leave again if she wanted, and she shot up out of her seat like it’d bit her, rushing to the other side of the café.

When the interview was over, you stood to say your goodbyes.

“Aren’t you gonna ask?” said Sans, raising the bone ridge above his eye. You marveled at how animated he was for a skeleton, and chocked it up to him being a monster. Magic, you supposed.

“Ask what?” you asked, “How to _bone_ a skeleton?”

The smile on his face grew at the use of your pun.

“Well, yeah…” he said, “I mean, not that I know either, but…”

You shrugged, offering your hand to help him up from his chair. He seemed pretty comfortable, like he wasn’t going to move unless you pushed him to. You could see why he was a virgin. Not because he didn’t have the looks – despite being a skeleton, he was pretty cute – but because he didn’t have the initiative. Sex was usually something people had to work for, not what they did for work. Either way, Sans didn’t seem the type to work for anything.

He didn’t know what he was missing out on, and not only would you be the first to show him, you’d be getting _paid_ for it.

“Oh, Sans,” you told him, “You and I will have _plenty_ of time together to figure that out.”


	3. Chapter 3

As confident as you liked to sound about boning the skeleton, you had to admit the very idea had you stumped.

You figured monster sex might be different from human sex – from what you’d heard they were _literally_ made of magic – but you didn’t have the slightest idea how different it was. Even if it was just like human sex, Sans was made of bones. Unless he had some kind of monster nervous system that allowed him to feel pleasure, this was going to be… _challenging_.

Then again, Undyne seemed to believe he could do it. She was paying for the service, after all, and she wouldn’t just throw money at something she wasn’t sure was possible, right? Or maybe she was just placing far too much confidence in your abilities…

You’d even done research, though it hadn’t helped much. Consulting a few friends in the business had yielded little results besides “…magic?” – which, frankly, you’d already considered. While there were a few online databases for information about monsters – for the curious, such as yourself – sex wasn’t one of the categories listed.

Guess you’d find out tonight, right? A big part of sex was exploring, after all. In fact, it’s usually more fun if you don’t know what you’re working with. It’s almost like unwrapping a present…

You received a text from Sans on your work phone, alerting you he was in the lobby. You checked your reflection in the mirror. A simple dark dress hugged your form, showing off the curves of your body. Black heels clicked against the hardwood of your apartment as you paced, waiting for the knock on your door.

When it came, you jolted slightly. God, you hadn’t been this nervous about sex in… well, you couldn’t even remember. But you could tell it wasn’t just a fear of the unknown, it was excitement. Whatever happened, tonight was going to be something, well, _magical_ , for lack of a better word.

“Hey,” he said casually when you opened the door. He was better than most at hiding his emotions, you figured, though he couldn’t hide his nervousness entirely. He was gripping the flowers he’d brought you so tight the stems were nearly snapped in half. You gently pried them from his phalanges.

“Evening,” you said, ushering him in through the doorway. The flowers were natural blue gentians, speckled with hushed whites and purples. You suppressed a giggle. You recognized them; they grew in a section with other flowers in the front of the building. You decided to play along. “You didn’t need to buy me flowers, Sans.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I haven’t _botany_.”

“Well, I–” you paused, giving him a look. “Did you just…”

“Yep,” he said with a wink. For a second, his eyes caressed you, taking in your attire. His breath hitched, and he tore his gaze away to take in the apartment. The blue on his cheeks matched the gentians. “Nice place, by the way.”

“Thanks.” You grabbed a small vase from the cabinet under the sink and filled it with cool water for the flowers. You weren’t sure they’d last very long after Sans’ death grip, but it was only right to give them a chance. “Make yourself comfortable. Would you like anything to drink?”

“Think I’ll pass,” he said, sounding distant. You put the flowers away and looked up to see him staring out the window. It stretched from ceiling to floor, showing off a marvelous view of the city. At this time of night, all of the city’s lights were on, twinkling like stars and stretching for miles. Sans couldn’t tear his eyes away, and you didn’t blame him. You’d lived here for a long time, and there were still nights where you’d turn off all the lights in your apartment and stare at the city for hours.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” you asked softly, an odd sense of pride swelling in your chest.

“They’re like stars,” he responded, and you jerked your head down at him in surprise, wondering if he’d somehow read your mind. He didn’t seem to notice your stare. Instead, his gaze flicked up to the night sky, which was dark and starless. The light pollution from the city rendered most of them invisible. “But they’re nothing like the real thing, are they?”

You frowned, looking back at the glorious view you’d never questioned before. Sure, it was beautiful, but… Sans was right. The twinkling lights of your city were nothing like real stars.

But that didn’t make them worthless.

“No,” you admitted. Sans looked at you apologetically, like he was sorry for ruining something you clearly admired. “But they’re still beautiful.”

A thoughtful smile slowly bloomed on Sans’ face. You got the feeling his smiles – the _real_ ones – were something rare.

You reached a hand out to touch his face, but made sure to pause just before you did, your fingers hovering a hair away from his zygomatic arch, the ridge just beside his eye socket.

“May I?” you asked softly, and he blinked, awed.

“S-sure,” he stammered, and you had a feeling that was rare too.

Your fingers traced the shape of his face, running along the hard ridges of bones you’d had to memorize long ago. You let out an airy chuckle. You can’t say many clients had ever made you recall your college anatomy class before.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, and to your pleasant surprise he didn’t seem offended. The grin on his face stretched with amusement at your exploration.

“Not funny,” you assured him, “Just… interesting. You’re hard as any skeleton.” You gently scraped the back of your nails along his skull to emphasize your point, and the light shiver that ran through him filled you with pride. So, he _could_ feel that, despite not appearing to have nerves. That made things much easier. “But you’re still so… animated. You’re _alive_.”

“Heh,” he chuckled, “Sometimes I forget that human skeletons are typically the opposite of that.”

“Typically,” you agreed with a smile.

As you continued your investigation, you noticed he seemed to be having trouble holding still. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, then shrugged out of them. He wrung his phalanges together, the sound of bone scraping against bone calling your attention.

“Wanna touch me too?” you asked, meeting his eyes. He nodded, his eyes already sweeping across your exposed skin. His gaze settled on the swell of your breasts, and the glowing whites of his eyes flickered in anticipation. “With your hands, I mean. Not just your eyes.”

He gave a nervous laugh and nodded again. You moved to sit on your couch, beckoning him closer with a wave of your finger. He sat beside you and after a moment, reached out to touch you, but hesitated before he made contact.

He didn’t seem too nervous, just confused. Curious, maybe. He looked like he was trying to solve some kind of puzzle, or maybe work out some kind of complicated equation in his head. You had no doubt he could. It was always the quieter, humble ones that had that kind of brain power.

You took hold of his hand and answered the question you knew was plaguing him: _what the hell do I do next?_

“Whatever you want,” you told him. You brought his hand up to your cheek – the same area your hands had started at when you were the one doing the exploring. “However you want. Tonight, I’m yours.”

Looking surprisingly more confident, his hand traced the bone under your skin, finding curves in the very basic structure of your body. But he didn’t focus on your bones – he was interested in the rest of you, the parts that made you different from him.

Phalanges danced along your skin, ghosted along the tiny hairs of your eyebrows and eyelashes and you were surprised at how careful he was being. You wondered if he was scared he was going to hurt you, or that he knew how flesh was different from bone – that it was soft, vulnerable.

You wondered if he’d ever touched another human this way.

He reached his other hand up and ran them both through your hair and along your scalp and you released a breathy sigh. At this his hands paused, but once he realized it wasn’t pain he was causing, he continued, marveling at the soft noises you were making because of him.

After a minute of this his hands began to migrate south. He gently felt the muscles in your neck, dipped his fingers into the hollow between your collar bones. Then, unashamed, he began to test the softness of your breasts.

His face came closer, as if to inspect the area more thoroughly. Suddenly, something changed in his eyes. For just a second, you could have sworn the whites of his eyes flashed blue. The same color as his blush.

“I like these,” he admitted, kneading the flesh gently between his hands.

“Many people do,” you supplied.

“They’re really soft,” he continued, staring at them in fascination. Before you could say anything he leaned forward and nestled his skull on top of them. “They’d make really great pillows.”

You chuckled, surprised at his sudden show of affection. He’d lost what little nervousness he’d had. His demeanor had changed almost entirely. He acted as if he knew exactly what he was doing, running on instinct.

You couldn’t say you minded the change.

You rested a hand on the back of his skull and stroked gently. He hummed, looking so content. Another rarity, you supposed.

“That feels good,” he murmured, his hands snaking around your waist.

Most men you slept with went straight to the sex and waited until that was taken care of before they even thought about snuggling. You were just happy he seemed to warm up to you so quickly.

Maybe it was just a monster thing.

“It gets better,” you promised.

He shifted his skull to look up at you, his lower jaw resting a bit awkwardly on the tops of your breasts. He was smirking.

“I may not have experience,” he said, “But I know how it works.”

“With humans?” you asked, “Or monsters?”

“Both,” he said, “The… _mechanics_ of it aren’t too different.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It still involves… flesh.”

“Which you have a significant lack of,” you pointed out helpfully.

“So that brings up an important question.”

“How do we do this?” you finished for him.

“Yeah.”

“Well,” you said, your hands running along the top of his skull affectionately. The deep noise in the back of his throat rose back up, reminding of you almost of a cat’s purr. “I have a theory.”

“You do?”

“You’ve got bones.”

“I do.”

“And you can feel this,” you continued, stroking his skull. His eyes lidded for a moment. You wondered if it felt anything like when he played with your hair.

“Mm, I can…”

“Maybe if I touch you somewhere else,” you offered. He leaned into your touch, eyes sliding shut. He was making that purring sound again, and you smiled. “It’ll feel even better.”

“Hm…” he mused.

“And there’s a bonus.”

“A bonus?”

“No work for you.”

His eyes opened again, and he met your own. The smile on his face picked up again.

“Now that’s a theory I wouldn’t mind putting to the test.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: [CHECK OUT THIS BEAUTIFUL AMAZING FAN ART FOR THIS CHAPTER](http://bittersweetdeath.tumblr.com/post/139092693862/perverted-sans-is-the-best-sans-from-chapter-3) by bittersweetdeath on tumblr!
> 
> Go follow them, they've got amazing art in general and also do fan art for other popular sans/reader fics and if you like that stuff I highly recommend you follow them (no seriously I love their art style, check it out!)!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long. School and whatnot as usual, but also I was trying to figure out some stuff I wanted for Sans, like body wise and mechanics of how it'd work with him. But yes, enjoy!
> 
> This chapter's got SMUT and so will the next one (I had to split this in two because it's your first time together and there's a lot of exploring/discovering plus I have the first major plot point during this scene so I had to fit a lot more than usual smut scenes and this will be continued in the next chapter).

The nervousness was back on Sans’ face as you led him to the bedroom, getting rid of your heels and his jacket on the way.

No, it wasn’t exactly nervousness. He wasn’t apprehensive – he seemed just as eager to fuck a complete stranger as you were – but rather uncertain, hesitant, like he feared he was going to do something wrong and send you running for the hills.

And it was your job to quell that fear, to let him know that even though you’d never slept with a monster, you were ready for whatever he could throw your way.

“Lie down, baby,” you spoke low, the lust in your voice far more genuine than usual. He complied, the look in his eyes flooded with anticipation. God, but he was cute. “I want you to keep talking to me, alright? If you like it, don’t like it… either way, I want to know. It’ll be a much more pleasant experience that way.”

“Ok,” he said, propping his torso up on his elbows, leaning against the soft pillows near the backboard.

You went for what you already knew first. Running your hands and fingers along his skull not only seemed to feel good to him, but also served to ease him into the sensation of a stranger’s hands on his body. He may ‘know how it works,’ but he was still a virgin, and there was a significant difference between having gotten The Talk and actually having sex for the first time.

Not to mention that despite your confidence out in the living room, you still weren’t entirely sure how this was going to work.

Your hands trailed down the sides of his face, meeting at the vertebrae of his neck briefly before moving to run your fingers along his collarbones. At this he hummed again, eyes lidding slightly, and you made a mental note to work that area later. You were determined to find every sensitive spot you could before you’d come back to it.

“Can I take your shirt off?” you asked. He nodded eagerly, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side.

There were two immediate things you noticed about his torso that came as a complete surprise to you.

For one, underneath his shirt, Sans was not the classroom skeleton you’d been expecting. His bones were thicker, more proportionate to his size, and there were what appeared to be exposed tendons joining certain bones together. It appeared to be a combination of these “tendons” and small wisps of what looked like blue smoke swirling about his joints that allowed him movement and held him together.

Most of his ribs were hidden beneath broad plates of that same material – which was somewhere between bone and tendon. They were shaped somewhat like human pectoral muscles, and their off-white color faded to translucence towards the middle of his chest, so that his sternum and a bit of his ribs were visible beneath the “flesh.”

You explored your new discovery by running your thumb along its smooth, broad surface. The texture was comparable to glass, but it moved as he breathed, stretching and giving as flesh would.

“You’re fascinating,” you stated dumbly.

“I’m a monster, is what I am,” he said, and though the words had you glancing up at him to assure him that didn’t bother you – that in fact it was interesting and different and more than a little attractive – he seemed amused at your curiosity rather than insecure in his form. “I’m put together a bit different than your run-of-the-mill skeleton.”

“Guess so,” you muttered in amazement, staring down at the second marvel Sans kept hidden beneath his shirt.

There was a faintly glowing inverted blue heart nestled safely within his ribcage. Its glow was far from overbearing – so it wasn’t too surprising he was able to hide it underneath several layers of clothes – but it was strong enough so that you could see its outline clearly.

It was pulsing. Alive.

“What…”

“It’s my soul,” he answered, enjoying your awed expression. “No, it’s not just a monster thing and yes, everyone has one, including yourself. They’re pretty sensitive, and personal, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t touch it…”

Your hand had been moving of its own volition, reaching out to touch his soul without even asking, before you heard his words. You withdrew your hand immediately, hoping he wouldn’t think you any less professional or trustworthy for being so childish in your curiosity. When you met his eyes to apologize, your worries about this fell away.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said before you could say sorry. He was smiling again, his eyes soft as he watched you. “A lot of humans go their whole lives without seeing anything like this. Nothin’ wrong with being curious. Ah, though, that request of mine still stands. Soul-touching is off limits.”

“Understood,” you said. You tried not to stare too much at his soul, but even with your level of restraint it was kind of difficult. Even if it was dim, it was still glowing, a beacon in the darkness of your bedroom.

Not to mention the whole thing about the foreign object before you actually being a _soul_. As in, the very culmination of one’s being.

Still, you managed to tear your eyes away from Sans’ heart, turning your focus to the more physical aspect of things. You traced the glossy surface of the “flesh” above his sternum, and his breath hitched slightly. You met his eyes to gauge his reaction more properly, but he seemed fairly surprised he’d reacted at all.

“Have you ever touched yourself like this?” you asked. His lazy grin and shrug was enough of an answer, but it was still a hard one to believe. You’d never met someone so lazy they never bothered to masturbate. “Does that mean… you’ve never even had an orgasm before?”

“Guess not,” he answered. He didn’t seem too upset about it. In fact, he was laying back casually, watching your hands work.

“Well then,” you said, splaying your fingers across the monster pecs and taking the delicious sound he made at the touch, “I guess I’m going to have to change that.”

“That so?”

“Mhm.”

“Would you say you’re _determined_ to make me cum?”

You braced yourself for another bad pun – he sounded like he was setting up a joke – but that sentence seemed to be its own punchline. He seemed amused that you didn’t get it.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked suddenly. You wanted to make sure he was okay with it. Some of your clients weren’t comfortable with kissing, instead only preferring the sex itself.

Sans raised one of his eyebrow ridges for a moment before a smirk settled on his features.

“I’d like to see you try,” he said, “I’m a bit short in the lips department.”

“Guess we’re lucky that I’m not.”

You swung your legs over his, straddling his hips. His hands found the tops of your thighs, which were bare now with how high the dress rode up. You smiled, giving the tiniest of test grinds against his clothed pelvis with your own hips. He let out a choked noise, like he wanted to moan but was both surprised that he did and desperate to keep himself quiet.

You leaned over him, your back arching as you lined your face up with his. He was staring intently at you, his expression a mix of surprised and aroused. Instead of going for his lips – well, not his lips, just his mouth, since he wasn’t lying about the no lips thing – you moved in for his neck.

When you’d asked him if he was into anything, back during your meeting at the café, he said he didn’t know. You offered him a few kinks, the usual ones for starters, since you didn’t want to scare him off.

When you said biting was one of them, his face flushed. You could practically see the images running through his mind as he stared at you, gaze falling to your neck…

You nipped at one of the exposed bones of his neck, eliciting a soft moan from your client. He seemed to be holding back though, and you weren’t having it.

“Remember babe,” you whispered against his clavicle, “Moans are a good thing. They let me know when you like what I’m doing. And if you like it, you want me to do it more, yeah?”

In the pause between words, you could feel his ribcage rising and falling despite Sans not having lungs. Or, at least, ones you could see.

“Y-yeah,” he agreed, and you hummed softly against his clavicle in satisfaction before licking along the bone. He gasped, his hips bucking gently against yours as you teased him.

“I…” he moaned softly, “I like that…”

You smiled, lips skimming along his clavicle.

“Good.”

You lifted your mouth from the area and before he could even process the loss, you pressed your lips against his teeth. He paused, still beneath you for a moment, before a low chuckle rumbled through the room.

“Interesting…” he mused, eyes staring deep into yours. You wondered if he could see the glow of his soul reflected in your eyes.

You didn’t break eye contact as you continued kissing him, your lips dragging along his teeth and your tongue peeking out to give the area around his mouth experimental licks. He seemed amused that you were trying at all, but you weren’t out of options yet. Your fingernails grazed the flesh over his sternum, scratching as gently as possible down its length. He hissed in a jagged breath and closed his eyes.

You couldn’t help a triumphant smirk.

But you weren’t done with him. Your hands migrated south, and you moistened your lips with your tongue – not before making sure he was watching – to kiss him more smoothly as your hands found the back of his spine.

“Nn,” he sighed appreciatively, once again looking for more friction in the form of bucking his hips upwards against yours. His pelvis found managed to grind up against your clit with the next buck of his hips you let out a moan of your own.

He stilled beneath you for a moment, eyes watching you intently as he repeated, quite precisely, the exact motion he’d performed moments prior. When the rush of pleasure hit you, your eyes lidded slightly as you watched him, and another breathy moan slipped past your lips.

“I like that,” he said again, and his voice was an octave lower than usual. Was he purring again? “I like that sound you make… Do it again.”

Before you could respond, a small jolt of blue snapped behind his left eye, and suddenly something about the kiss was entirely different. Some kind of energy swirled around your lips, tickling the nerves and staggering tiny shocks of pleasure around your mouth. He said he didn’t have lips – and indeed when you pulled away for the tiniest moment, you could see that for the most part he still didn’t have them – but the way he was kissing you could have fooled you. It was suddenly not too different from a human kiss, and it finally registered that he was trying to replicate just that with what you assumed was magic.

The sensation was not something you were used to, but that only thrilled you more.

Your hands continued to explore the smallest ridges in his bones, dipping between small curves and dragging over alternations between smooth and slightly rough textures. All the while his moans urged you to continue, rising and falling when you found more sensitive areas, like the tiny bits of tendon between vertebrae and the lowest part of his spine, near his pelvis.

Your migrating hands finally landed on the area you’d been aching to explore since you first straddled them. Reaching between your legs and underneath his shorts, hunched over somewhat awkwardly so you didn’t have to stop kissing Sans, your fingers hovered over his pubic symphysis – the juncture of bone directly between his legs, which you’d been grinding against this whole time. There was a tendon there that held those bones together.

You took a moment to smirk into the kiss, opening your eyes and making sure you had his full attention before you firmly pressed the pad of your thumb against the bit of “flesh” there.

The noise he made was almost predatory, mixed between a moan and a growl, to the point that for the briefest of moments it actually startled you. His hands tightened on your thighs, phalanges digging into your flesh possessively as yes another thing about the kiss changed.

His “lips” were just tendrils of magic running along your own, but now there was a distinct sensation of a tongue, warm and wet pressing eagerly against your lips, demanding entrance. It should have surprised you, but all you could think to do was react to the stimulus. Your lips parted and suddenly you were making out with a skeleton.

But it was such a good thing, you realized, because now you knew he could make body parts out of magic.

It took him a few moments to register what just happened.

He pulled away, looking just as surprised as you that he had a tongue now

“That’s… _new_ ,” he said, and you realized his mouth had _opened_. This whole time he’d been speaking through his teeth, though his voice was clear and articulate, so it hadn’t occurred to you that he could open his mouth at all.

And instead of just straight pearly whites, his teeth – his _real_ teeth – were just like a human’s, save for his slightly larger and… _sharper_ canines…

Oh, god, the things he could do to you with those teeth…

_Fuck._

“You’re just full of surprises,” you half-breathed, half-moaned out, returning to the kiss with new vigor. It was so much easier with an open mouth and an artificial tongue.

He closed his eyes, losing himself for a moment in the sensations you fed him. You took the opportunity to resume rubbing at the juncture between his legs. His hands gripped fistfuls of your dress, and he gave a rolling shudder beneath you, his whole body responding to your touch.

“I… _Nnh_ , I like…” he tried.

“I know, baby,” you chuckled warmly.

And then something was suddenly different again. Something was expanding against you, gaining form against your hand and you knew it had to be his cock.

His eyes locked into yours when he pulled away from the kiss. He didn’t even look down to see what his magic made, only stared into your eyes, like he saw something there significantly more interesting.

“Guess that makes this a lot easier, huh?” he asked. “Still think you can make me cum?”

You almost outright laughed at that, the answer seemed so obvious. Instead, you restrained yourself, gently pulling yourself off of his lap to settle between his legs. You finally broke eye contact to look at the eager cock before you. Blue as his soul, slightly transparent like his tongue, small wisps of magic swirling around its form.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you said, taking hold of your new best friend. You gave him a slow, experimental stroke, just to make sure he could feel it, before smirking, your lips hovering just a breath away from its head.

“I _know_ I can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger (sorta? does it count as a cliffhanger if you know what's going to happen? and that thing is awesome sex?) but this chapter was getting too long so I had to split it in two parts.


	5. Chapter 5

The whites of his eyes were zeroed in on your mouth, watching with desperate anticipation at what you planned to do with it. You wondered if he knew about oral sex. Did he have anyone to explain this stuff to him or did he have to look everything up?

“Is it okay if I…?” Instead of finishing that sentence with something clinical, you let your tongue peek out from your mouth, running it along your lips.

“ _God_ yes,” he hissed, his legs spreading a bit to invite you even more. A bit of colorless precum beaded on his tip, slowly dripping down his shaft. He didn’t seem capable of staring at anything but your mouth.

So you gave him what he wanted.

You lapped up his precum and he let out a shaky breath as you savored the unique taste. You’d had your share of cum and pre throughout your career, and you were surprised to find that his actually had a taste. It had a faint sweetness to it you’d never experienced before.

Without further warning – he seemed like he might throw something at you if you asked if he wanted to continue again – you took his whole head into your mouth. He wasn’t the biggest guy you’d seen – not that you gave a damn about size – so you knew you’d have no trouble taking all of him. You just didn’t want to overload him with too much too fast.

Because holy hell was this guy sensitive.

You’d never pleasured someone who’d never touched themselves before. It was still quite a wonder Sans hadn’t, though you were beginning to believe him. He gripped the sheets beneath him like they were the only thing keeping him tethered to this plane of existence, and you were just getting started.

You sucked softly at his head before slowly taking the rest of him into your mouth. You tried to hold back, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“M-more,” he practically keened, his gaze desperate as he peeked down at you with one half-lidded eye. The other was screwed shut in bliss.

You obliged, taking him fully into your mouth and bobbing your head on his length.

He let out a slew of curses, instinctively bucking his hips for more stimulation. Your swirled your tongue around his shaft, pressed it hard into the underside as you licked from the base up to his head. You employed your favorite techniques on him, all the while watching him as he came undone at your treatment.

“A-ah, sh-shit, nnngh…”

His face was screwed into an expression of pure bliss. His eyes were barely open, his white pupils rolling upwards as he neared the edge. His mouth was clenched shut, fangs biting down on where his lips would be, just under his bottom row of teeth. You knew he wasn’t just doing that to stop himself from moaning – he was too far past the point of caring – but rather it just felt so fucking _good_ that he needed to _bite_ something.

The thought had you shivering along with him. You’d love to give him something to bite…

As much as you wanted to tease him, wanted to draw this out, you couldn’t bring yourself to. He needed this. Besides, there was plenty of time for teasing later.

“Nnh, I’m… H-holy shit!” he cried out, and you hummed around his member at the way his voice cracked. “I-I think… _fuck_!”

He was close, hips bucking wildly into your mouth. He moaned openly now, his noises only fueling you on. You rubbed your legs together, hoping for some friction to quell the heat building within you. His whines and keens were driving you crazy, you had to admit. The way his hands gripped at the sheets and how he writhed in bliss, spine arching against the bed.

You could definitely get used to this image of him.

Doing away with words, he simply shouted, voice breaking as he came in your mouth. You heard the sound of fabric ripping under his clenching hands but you couldn’t care less. You swallowed what he gave you eagerly, but paid it’s sugary flavor little mind. What screamed at you the most was the way your heart felt like it was physically slamming against the inside of your chest, trying to burst from behind your rib cage. Waves of something like sparking electricity seemed to hit you square in your chest, and with each wave you could _feel_ that ‘something’ trying to get in, trying to… but you couldn’t answer.

You didn’t know how.

So as he finally began to settle down, you swept the questions from your thoughts. It was just a monster thing, you reasoned. Magic, etc. You focused instead on the expression he was wearing, on the way his body was still slightly trembling in the afterglow. You did this to him. You gave him the best pleasure the world had to offer. He looked so happy, so full of bliss and like everything he’d been carrying on his shoulders was, at least in this moment, forgotten.

With a smile, you crawled up to lay beside him, resting on your side to receive your true payment, to absorb the aftermath of your loving because really, that was the actual reason you lived this life. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold down a job or find something else to do with your time, it was that you _wanted_ to do this. You wanted to give people ecstasy, happiness, bliss, and you were proud that to this day, you’d never failed in your endeavors.

Sans glanced over to you, moving nothing save for the whites of his eyes. You couldn’t help the light smirk from dancing its way across your lips.

“So how about it, bonehead?” you teased lightly. You reached up and gently rapped a knuckle on his forehead. “Did I manage to get my point through that thick skull of yours?”

“What point was that?” he breathed through his smile. His teeth had melded back into their unintimidating, casual grin. It was a clever disguise; you couldn’t even see where his fangs were anymore.

“That some things are worth the effort,” you supplied.

“When did I say they weren’t?”

“I seem to recall you admitting to me that you were too lazy to masturbate,” you said with a raised eyebrow. “Maybe that’ll change now. Hopefully you realize the benefits of loving yourself. I have done a good deed this day.”

“I’m sure sleeping with strangers is very morally fulfilling,” he teased right back, and that finally brought a chuckle out of you.

“I may live a life of sin,” you conceded, “But it’s a life I wouldn’t trade for any other.”

“Why?” he asked, and you knew he was genuinely curious. Most of the people who asked you were.

“Come now, Mr. Skeleton,” you taunted, “A girl’s got to keep some of her allure.”

“Fair enough.”

“So what do you do for a living?”

“Hey, I thought we were keeping our _allures_ ,” he smirked, drawing out the last word sarcastically.

“ _I_ am,” you said, “You, on the other hand, can tell me anything you want. How your day was, your fears, your deepest, darkest secrets…”

“Why would I do that?”

“It’s part of the deal,” you answered. “Stress relief. Everyone has something they want to get off their chest, and I’m always open to talk things out. Besides, it’s fun to actually learn about the people I sleep with. Sweetens the deal on my end too.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t do secrets,” he said with a shrug, staring up at the ceiling.

“That’s fine,” you told him, “We can just make small talk.”

“Small talk?”

“Yep.”

“Isn’t that just called whispering?”

“No, it’s-” you cut yourself off as the joke hit you and you chuckled. “That one was pretty bad, Sans.”

He merely shrugged, but his grin was hitched a bit higher than normal. He seemed to like making you laugh.

“So?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“ _Did_ I change your mind?”

“You wanna know if I think sex is worth the effort?” he asked. You nodded, and suddenly he rolled on top of you, a spark of new confidence twinkling mischievously in his eyes. “Short answer? _Fuck_ yes.”

You bit your lip and brought your arms up to wrap around his shoulders. Why did this feel so natural all of a sudden? Sex in general felt natural, of course, but you’d never felt so intimate this early on with a client. Not that it was hard, especially from your end, but usually the people you slept with were shy, slightly intimidated the first few times actually being with you. You didn’t blame them; most people didn’t see sex as something as carefree and open as you did. Most people needed to establish some kind of connection before they were truly comfortable in the bedroom.

But this monster… He seemed to know you already. He’d only just had his very first orgasm with you and yet he was acting like he knew you, was comfortable with you. Was it just a monster thing?

“Can I, uh, p-put it inside this time?” he asked, his confident demeanor shrinking.

“I already told you, babe,” you told him, and your faces were so close that you almost couldn’t help licking playfully at his chin. The blue on his cheeks grew and the purring noise was back, rumbling away in his chest. “I’m all yours.”

His low growl resonated within you in the form of that stirring in your chest. A pleasurable warmth pooled at the base of your abdomen. _Fuck_ , you loved it when he growled like that.

His hands fumbled awkwardly at your dress, unsure of how to remove it, unsure how to ask if he was allowed. You leaned up a bit and undid the zipper at the back before shimmying out of it, leaving yourself in just your bra and panties.

“Want me to take these off too?” you teased, reaching one of your hands up to gently knead one of your breasts, sighing at the relaxing sensation as he watched on happily. When you bit your lip again, his cock gave a twitch.

“Please,” he said softly, watching as your arms slide around back to unclasp the hooks and letting the material fall away from your chest. He seemed completely enamored with your nipples, not even giving you time to take off your panties before he leaned in and grabbed both breasts in his hands. You stifled a giggle at his expression. He looked like he was seeing heaven for the first time.

He leaned his face closer and inhaled deeply, his eyes closing tightly and his fangs once again revealing themselves. Okay, _now_ you had to ask.

“What are you doing, babe?”

“You smell so good,” he practically moaned, and you flushed at the… compliment?

“Um, t-thank you,” you said, but he was already moving on. His hands gripped your shoulders and he moved to press his skull in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply there too.

You weren’t uncomfortable, exactly, just confused. You’d never had a guy purposefully _sniff_ you before. It was different… and kind of a turn on.

Not moving his skull from its place against your neck, his hands gripped your panties and pulled them down your legs. He flung them to the side, uncaring of where they landed. You raised an eyebrow, noticing but not commenting on how his demeanor had changed again. He didn’t seem nervous or unsure anymore, it was…

It was like he was simply fulfilling a primal urge.

_Holy shit._

He wasted no time in lining himself up with your entrance, still somewhat awkward physically despite his newfound drive. He was still inexperienced, after all. You reached down to help guide him, and at your touch his cock gave another twitch.

“Mmn…” he moaned against your neck, eagerly pressing his hips forward as soon as he felt the tip of his cock against your pussy.

You lifted your legs to give him better access, resting the back of your thighs on the tops of his. He pressed forward until he was fully inside you before picking up a slightly erratic yet steady rhythm. You allowed the feeling of being filled wash over you, letting out soft sighs and genuine moans of pleasure. The fire in your gut was finally being taken care of, and despite his inexperience, Sans was proving to be pretty good at this.

Sans was groaning loudly against your neck, slightly muffled but since he was so close to your ear you could hear every gasp, every praise and endearment about how good you felt, how he was so hard, so close, how you were just so good, _so good_ …

And you were used to sexual frustration because you always put your client’s pleasure first, but tonight you wanted to cum for him. You wanted to hear his moans when he felt your walls milking his cock…

“S-Sans,” you whispered into his ear, choking back a moan as he gave a particularly sudden thrust into you at hearing his name moaned from your lips. “Baby, I’m gonna need you to do something for me…”

He didn’t answer verbally. Instead, the tips of his fangs grazed the flesh of your neck, and _fuck_ , they were _sharp_.

_Bite me. Bite me._

“I’m gonna need you to _fuck me harder_ ,” you moaned against his skull, drawing out the last words to make sure he understood how much you wanted this, how much you needed him.

He did as you asked, his hips now slamming into you though he kept his original pace. He was moaning with every thrust now. You could feel every pulse of his dick inside of you, and you knew you couldn’t last much longer.

He groaned loudly, his whole body shuddering as he came inside of you, his hands clenching around your shoulders where he’d been holding on and–

And fuck, he _finally_ bit you.

There were those waves of electricity again, pulsing against your chest, radiating from the trembling skeleton above you. As you climaxed, screaming out his name, you finally realized, you finally _heard_ what the electricity was saying to you, could understand what it wanted.

An establishment. A connection.

You were always open to connections. It was why you got into this business in the first place. You wanted to make people feel loved, to make them forget the things that haunted them.

And you could feel now how he was hurting. How empty, how hopeless he felt, and you wanted so badly to take away that pain. Not because you knew him, or understood the reasons why he felt this way, but because no one deserved this level of agony.

**Knock knock.**

It was a feeling, not a voice. A jest, a joke, and you knew exactly how to answer this time. You knew exactly how to connect. As you came down from your high you looked into his eyes, felt the expectancy there, the sudden feeling of hanging by a moment.

And so you answered.

**Who’s there?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait.

As usual, you woke up entangled in someone else’s body.

They were holding you a lot tighter than you were used to. You stirred, squirming a bit so you could glance down at the arms wrapped around your waist. For a moment you were startled at the stark white bones, but as the haze of sleep faded away, you began to remember who you slept with last night.

Sans’ arm was mostly bone, but he also had that strange tendon-like flesh you remembered from last night. It was few and far between, just enough to allow him movement and to keep him together. At the same time though, it didn’t stick out too far from his bones, and instead gave his body shape that skeletons normally wouldn’t have. You found yourself reaching to examine one of his hands.

Some of his flesh wrapped around each wrist, similar to the tendon that was there in humans. His palm was closed off, such that if he were to cup water in his hands, none would slip between his bones.

And his bones were definitely something else. Unlike human bones that had holes – they were called foramen, if you remembered correctly – in them so that veins could pass through the structure, Sans’s bones were smooth to the touch. There was a slight nick or bump every now and then, what you figured were the skeleton monster equivalent of scars.

The tips of his fingers didn’t end the same way humans’ did, with short little bulbous ends on the bones. Instead, his resembled the shape of an actual finger. You wondered if he could form them into claws, like how his teeth could be formed into fangs. If so, was he just as free to form the rest of his body to whatever he wanted? For some reason, you doubted it, though the idea of magic having limitations of any kind was a strange concept to wrap your head around.

Wasn’t magic all about making the impossible possible?

“Weird, huh?”

You started slightly at the words against your ear and gently released his arm. He immediately went back to wrapping it around you, pulling your body close to his. To your surprise you were completely comfortable with it. None of your other clients held you this close, and if they did, you would probably pull away.

“Not weird,” you assured him. “Cool.”

“Heh,” he chuckled, warm breath blowing a wisp of your hair into your face. Why was it warm? “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Sans was pressed flush against you, your back against his chest and arms coiled around your midsection. Even his bony legs were wrapped around yours. Usually, you didn’t allow this kind of intimacy in bed once the sun was up. The client had their night, now it was time to go. They would get to have you again another night, but the days belonged to you alone.

But right now, you were in no hurry to claim the day for yourself.

The day could wait a little while, you reasoned. You didn’t have anyone else coming in today, and your cover job didn’t start until later this afternoon. You had to admit Sans was a pretty comfortable cuddle buddy, despite his bony frame.

It was strange. You could feel the hardness of his bones pressing into your skin, but for some reason it felt soft, like there were tiny pillows between your bodies keeping him from indenting your skin with the force of his snuggling.

To convince yourself that you were only stalling because you were curious, and not because you didn’t want to see Sans leave – because why would you not want to see him leave after only meeting him about a week ago and even if there was such a thing as love at first sight you were certainly not the woman to fall for that – you asked him a question.

“So,” you said, “What made Undyne decide she was gonna get you laid?”

He nuzzled the side of his skull against your face, nudging your head aside gently so he could press his face into your neck.

“I’m good friends with her fiancé,” he answered against your pulse. “We’ve gotten pretty close since the engagement, and one night we were drinking together at this place downtown. Loosened me up just enough to tell her I was a virgin. She decided to do something about it.”

He paused here, taking a deep breath in, his arms tightening around your waist. To your surprise it still didn’t hurt.

“I’m glad she did,” Sans finished into your ear, voice serious and soft.

He meant he was glad for the sex, right? Because the way he said that did _not_ sound like he was talking about the sex.

You _really_ needed to get out of this bed.

You moved, but it wasn’t the way you intended to. Instead of pushing yourself away from Sans, you turned in his arms, struggling a bit because he was holding you so tightly, so… _reverently_.

No. _No_. He was just cuddling. He just _really_ liked cuddling.

You stared into his eyes and from this close, you could see the surface of his magic pupils swirling with silver. Each orb looked like a tiny rendition of the moon. He seemed to be just as enthralled with your own eyes.

After a moment, he glanced down at your breasts. You almost chuckled at his boldness, but you stopped yourself when you saw his expression. You felt uneased, worried, though you weren’t sure why.

“What is it?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, eyes still trained on your breasts. He wiped the look of shock and concern from his face and met your eyes again, his smile back to its default setting. “I should be going. I’m three hours late for work.”

“What?” you sputtered, sitting up and throwing the covers off, immediately forgetting his weird concern for your boobs. “What are you still doing here? Aren’t you going to get fired?”

He outright laughed at your concern.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, though he also got out of bed, leaning over to grab his clothes and pull them back on.

You shook your head and pulled on some clothes as well. You walked him over to the front door of your apartment and opened it for him. He stepped out into the hallway, but hesitated. He turned around and looked up at you, expression unreadable.

You couldn’t see it by looking at his face, but somehow, you still knew he was worried about something. It was like the feeling hung in the air.

“Is something wrong?” you offered.

“I’m not sure what to pay you,” he admitted sheepishly. You quickly checked the hall to make sure no one was listening in on your conversation.

“It’s already taken care of,” you assured him with a smile. “Undyne paid for it, remember?”

“Right,” he said, scratching the back of his skull, his eyes turned to the floor. He looked like something else was on his mind.

“Will I…” Sans trailed off. He looked back at you again, face flushed. “Will I see you again?”

You weren’t too surprised by his question. While some of your clients were only here for a good lay every now and then, there were a handful of regulars that preferred you as their main or only escort. You had room for another regular right now, so you figured adding Sans wouldn’t be a problem.

“If you would like that,” you confirmed, “You can set up another appointment or schedule one for every week. The price would be the same.”

His face fell, but he tried hard to cover it up. He looked like he’d been trying to tell you some inside joke you didn’t understand, like you’d missed out on the meaning.

“I’ll get back to you on that,” he said finally. He glanced back to your breasts once more, the same look from earlier flashing briefly on his features. Did they bother him or something? He seemed to be enamored with them last night. “There’s something I have to figure out first.”

“Of course,” you said, “You have my contact information.”

He nodded and offered a small wave of his hand before stuffing them both in the pockets of his jacket and trudging off toward the elevator down the hall.

You closed the door and spun around, pressing your back against it.

“Next.”

You muttered the mantra quietly, attempting to break your thoughts and mind away from Sans so you could focus on the day ahead.

For some reason, it didn’t help.

The rest of the day you felt irritable. Something was missing. You could feel it, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Sans wouldn’t steal from you, would he? He didn’t seem like the kind of person who would do that.

You spent most of the day looking through your items. It started with the basic stuff; laptop, phone, chargers, DVDs, CDs, players, video games, books, photos…

But when they are all there, you began to check the inane stuff, the things nobody would bother taking anyways. It was hardly worth the effort but you were determined and the very sky falling down wouldn’t stop you from finding out what the hell was missing.

Kitchen appliances, pots, pans, utensils, towels, linens, clothes, soaps, shampoos, food from your fridge, food from your pantry…

You checked the whole apartment, top to bottom, and nothing seemed out of place. You couldn’t be sure of course since you never exactly spent time counting how many forks you owned, so if one were to go missing you wouldn’t have noticed.

But something _was_ missing. Something important. And it was driving you _crazy_.

Not to mention the sudden pain in your chest that had begun to grow as the day went on. Was it heartburn or something? You can’t remember the last time you’d had heartburn. What the hell was going on?

When you went to work, your coworkers steered clear of you. If they had to talk to you they made sure their sentences were quick and to the point, like they were afraid they would set you off. Seeing them all act like that only served to make you even more irritated. A headache joined the party of pain you were having in your chest and you had to work harder and harder to keep yourself from lashing out at anyone. No one here deserved to deal with that.

When you got home you found you weren’t hungry and the very thought of even a light dinner made you gag, so you took a hot shower and headed off to bed. You were obviously some kind of sick, so you cancelled the appointment with your next client the following evening. You’d never cancelled on anyone that suddenly before, but thankfully Kayla was very forgiving. She told you to feel better soon and then you were left in silence.

That night your dreams were even more confusing than usual. Flashes of blue, smiling figures in the darkness, heart-shaped souls of all colors, both inverted and upright. There was something about spaghetti and something about dust.

There was a _lot_ of dust, and you weren’t sure why that terrified and unnerved you so much, but you woke up the next morning sweaty and panting, shooting upright in bed like you’ve never done before.

What the hell was happening to you?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, sorry for the delay (for this one and A&D). I'd just like to thank everyone for hanging in there and waiting patiently. Btw my writing tumblr is http://gorillazobsessor.tumblr.com and my main tumblr is http://feelin-good-in-the-inc.tumblr.com so feel free to follow those. :D
> 
> *cough* I also have a sinblog http://feel-good-sin.tumblr.com and an undertale AU blog (which I might actually write something for someday, I've already posted some art for it) http://umbratale.tumblr.com
> 
> But yes, thanks again and enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 7**

A week went by and it was filled only with suffering.

It was like every sickness decided to hit you at the same time, doing their best to take you down. The heartburn never went away, for one. You also had a cough and a runny and stuffy nose. You still didn’t feel like eating most of the time, and there was this dull ache throughout your whole body accompanied (so _thoughtfully_ ) by a fever. It was a soreness that you felt deep in the tissue of your muscles, like you’d run a marathon every day of this past week and your body was falling apart.

The lingering chest pain was the most worrisome, though. Chest pain was never a good sign, and so you were planning to see a doctor on your next day off.

You’d cancelled all your appointments for the week because you didn’t want to get anyone sick. Plus, the whole pain thing really made it hard to eat or sleep, let alone have sex. It wasn’t unbearable, just constant. A dull throb, almost like period cramps, but far less intense.

It was strange, this sickness. You felt like death half the time and sure, by the seventh day you were almost convinced you were actually becoming a zombie, but it had all come on so suddenly. _Too_ suddenly, right after you’d first slept with Sans. The first time you’d ever had sex with a monster.

And you weren’t stupid. There was a pretty big chance that wasn’t just coincidence, but you felt bad just blaming him for this when it was just a sickness. Wasn’t that racist? Just blaming a monster for making you sick? But eventually you’d figured even if he did pass something to you, it wasn’t on purpose. He certainly didn’t seem anywhere near this sick last week.

You were just getting out of the shower when the call came in. You picked up your phone, forgetting to check the caller ID in your dazed stupor.

“Hello?” you answered, setting the phone on speaker so you could get dressed.

“Hey, it’s me,” said Undyne on the other end.

“Oh,” you said, both pleased and disappointed. You were kind of hoping it would be Sans calling, though you weren’t too sure why. He had a nice voice, and was easy to get along with. Getting sick and not being with anyone for a whole week left you feeling surprisingly lonely. You didn’t mind talking with Undyne, though.

Sans was your client just as much as she, but business formalities were tossed out the window after your _magical_ night last week.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

“Look, I-” she cut herself off, pausing for a moment. “Hey, are you alright?”

“What?” you asked, before realizing she could probably _hear_ how contagious you were through the phone. “Oh, yeah. Just caught a bug, I guess. I’ll get over it soon enough. So what was it you-”

“You’re sick?” she asked, a strange urgency to her voice despite the redundant question. She seemed almost shocked. Instead of waiting for you to formulate an answer, she continued talking, her tone far more serious. “How long?”

“A-about a week,” you stammered, too taken aback by her sudden tone that the words fell out before you could even think of them.

“A week,” she echoed flatly. “I’m coming over.”

“Excuse me?”

There was a click, followed by a dial tone, and it seemed to finally kick your senses back into gear.

Undyne was coming over to your house.

She seemed like a nice person, but you didn’t know her that well. You’d trusted her and Sans enough to give them your address, but you didn’t think Undyne would ever actually _use_ that information inappropriately.

You continued getting dressed, pulling on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt instead of the shorts and tank you originally had in mind. You pushed past the sudden feeling of dread hanging over you. Undyne wasn’t going to hurt you, right? She was just concerned for your health!

You couldn’t blame her; your voice did sound pretty terrible after a week of coughing up your own lungs.

But no, you reasoned, she didn’t know you enough to actually care about you. She’d paid you to sleep with her friend, but that didn’t mean _you two_ were friends. Nobody would just drop what they were doing to come take care of an acquaintance, right?

Unless… it was a cultural thing? You felt bad for not knowing. Maybe you should have done some more research into _monsters_ instead of just how they have sex.

The phone rang again, and you practically dove to pick it up.

“Undyne?” you asked, despite knowing this time from the caller ID that it was in fact her.

“Yeah.” Her voice was nearly drowned out in the background noise. She seemed to be calling you on her cell this time. “Hey, uh, sorry about just dropping that on you and running. Alphys was worried I freaked you out, told me to call you back on the way.”

You didn’t know who Alphys was, and you weren’t completely comfortable with her just dropping by your house, but by now you knew Undyne was impulsive and enthusiastic, and you would have to match her pace to keep up. Quick and concise questions, honest answers. Okay, go.

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t actually know,” she admitted. “Sans has been acting weird for the past week and I was calling to see if you know what’s gotten into him.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah, he uh-” She fumbled with the phone. “He hasn’t shown up to work at all, hasn’t answered anyone’s calls. Papyrus says he – oh, Papyrus is his brother, by the way – he says he hasn’t been eating that much. Know why?”

“No,” you told her truthfully, trying to ignore the thinly veiled accusation that you had something to do with this. “I haven’t talked to him since last week. I have no idea why he’d be acting that way.”

“Yeah, I figured,” she said, and despite her tone earlier, she sounded like she believed you. “Alright, I’m on your block now so I’ll be there-”

“Wait, you’re _on my block_?” Already? She just left her home a few minutes ago. How close by did she live? Also, “Why are you still coming over? I don’t know what happened to Sans-”

“You said you were sick,” she answered matter-of-factly. “I just, uh, wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Experience and an abundance of caution told you she could very well be lying, but there was something genuine in her voice. You couldn’t help but think back to the first time you met her back in the coffee shop. She’d hugged you so easily, treating you like a close friend even when you were a perfect stranger.

You decided to believe her, and you hoped it wasn’t the last decision you’d ever make.

“I’m here,” she told you, bringing you back to the present. “What’s the apartment number again?”

You told her the number and hung up, setting the phone on the coffee table and waiting for her to arrive. You coughed and rubbed your chest, hoping to alleviate some of the ache. You tried not to worry too much about it, especially since it hadn’t exactly gotten _worse_. You’d be sure to make an appointment in the morning, and then you’d go back to your regular schedule.

There was a knock on the door, and after making sure it was Undyne on the other side of it, you opened it for her.

“Evening,” you greeted, backing away so she could come in, “Sorry you came all the way over here, but I really am perfectly fine-”

You stopped yourself at her expression. She was frozen in the hallway, her eyes fixed on your breasts in horror, just like Sans had done a week ago. You looked down at your chest and saw nothing.

“What have you done?”

Her voice was soft, disbelieving. You couldn’t have been more confused.

“Huh?”

“You heard me,” she said, louder this time. She stepped into your apartment, and you were too stunned to try to push her back out, to try to close the door on her. You stepped backwards, suddenly very aware of her muscles, her sharp teeth, the murderous look in her eyes. “What did you do to him?”

Your response died in your throat when a teal spear materialized in her hand, suddenly appearing right before your eyes. It glowed like a neon light, buzzed with energy. It looked every bit as dangerous as she did.

There was a breathless moment as the air was stolen from your lungs. You felt a pull in your chest, and suddenly your vision was filled with a dark red light. A glowing red heart hovered in the air before your chest. Faint swirls of blue and purple shone across its glossy surface, the color combining to form the dark red you saw in the light. The whole thing looked like a radioactive jewel.

A shimmering ruby. Dark as blood, red as a rose.

But within this heart was a smaller, inverted heart that glowed a bright cyan-blue.

“O-oh my god,” you choked, your hands cupping around the heart protectively. You weren’t an idiot; you knew this was your soul. It looked exactly like the one Sans had shown you, only yours was upright. Well, most of it was, anyway. You weren’t too sure what the inverted cyan heart meant, but there were several good guesses you could offer. It could just be how human souls looked.

Or… it could be…

You didn’t want to think about it too hard. It was… just a monster thing.

Right?

Undyne sneered at your soul, her eyes narrowed as if it was the soul’s existence that was angering her. What did you do wrong? Apparently she wasn’t going to wait around for you to figure it out.

You knew how to fight. You’d taken martial arts classes and could hold your own if someone attacked you. But this was different. There was magic involved here, and even if there wasn’t, you didn’t know how to fight against someone with a goddamn _spear_.

“Why would you _do_ that?” she continued, staring you down as though she was looking for the answer in your face. She pointed her spear towards your soul. “How did you-? Who taught you how to do that?”

“Undyne,” you said her name, unable to look away from the spear in her clenched fist. “Please, calm down, just listen to me-”

“Who do you work for?!” she screamed suddenly, and then the spear was hurled at you, directly at your soul.

You ducked out of the way and heard the spear crash into the wall behind you. You could hear a sizzling sound as the pure energy burned through wallpaper and drywall, but you didn’t dare take your eyes off of Undyne. Another spear materialized in her hand.

“Undyne,” you said again, trying to keep calm, but your throat hurt and you felt a coughing fit coming on and _she was throwing magical spears at your soul_. “I don’t know what’s going on, you have to believe me-”

Your placating attitude only seemed to anger her further.

“I won’t ask you again!” she shouted, “In the name of King Asgore, you will tell me who sent you to attack us or this next attack won’t miss!”

“No one!” You voice broke in your desperation. “I wouldn’t attack you!”

“NGAH!!” she roared, throwing her second spear directly at your soul.

Time seemed to slow down as you watched the sparkling weapon near the dark red heart. It inched closer, sneaking towards you… and then you realized it had been a few full seconds since Undyne threw the spear. It came to a crawl right before your eyes, about a foot away from your chest, and finally, somehow, it just _stopped_.

Both Undyne and her weapon were frozen mid-attack. Her muscles remained taught and tense in her expert throw, her hair flared out behind her, whipped up in the air but now caught in the motionless curse. You were afraid to move, afraid to breathe, too scared it would undo whatever had been done.

And then, suddenly, _relief_.

You almost moaned at the instant loss of your pains. The throbbing in your head died down, and you could almost feel the swelling of your inflamed organs going down. It was like someone had dowsed you in an insta-cure for every pain and sickness you’d had for the past week. All at once, everything was gone.

Only the tiniest hint of a dull throb remained in your chest, though it was significantly easier to bear.

Footsteps to your right.

You jerked your head to see Sans slowly making his way over to you, one hand outside of his jacket pockets and held before him. Within his left eye was a ball of electric blue energy that was crackling so powerfully you could hear it sparking in the air.

He looked nothing like the Sans you’d left a week ago.

The circles under his eyes were so much darker, and small beads of sweat were dripping down his skull. His mouth was shut and pulled into that tight grimace, but his chest was heaving as he gasped for air. He looked absolutely exhausted.

“Sans,” you breathed.

“I’m okay,” he answered before you could even ask.

He came to stand in front of you, facing Undyne’s still frozen form. Though he was shorter than you, in this moment with his blazing eye and magic powerful enough to apparently stop time, you knew he was so much _bigger_ , so much _more_ than the grin he plastered on his face every day.

Sans reached his free arm to gently tap the spear that was still aimed at your heart. With a simple flick of a finger, it was shifted so that its momentum would send it into the wall behind you rather than your soul.

Your soul. That would have pierced your _soul_.

Your knees gave out suddenly and you collapsed. You crouched against the wall behind you just as Sans resumed time. Undyne was shocked into stillness as, to her, Sans had appeared from thin air and her perfectly aimed spear had landed way off from her intended target. She looked speechless, looking between both you and Sans.

Sans turned to look over his shoulder, apparently trusting that Undyne was no longer going to attack now that he was here and she was confused as all hell. The hand that had been holding his magic moments ago fell to his side.

_Hold._

You did, and the rest of the ache in your heart subsided. Of course it was him. It had been him from the start. The whole sickness came right back to him.

_Sorry._

You look up from your joined hands to meet his eyes, confused. What were you sorry for? Why would you think that right now?

His smile twitched, and finally faltered. It was a more genuine smile this time, but it was much sadder. God, he looked so _upset_ …

You sniffled, a choked sob fighting its way out of your chest. A few stray tears fell onto your cheeks, and for some _completely legitimate reason_ you were sure, you were actually crying.

And then you were surprised, because _he_ was surprised. Why were you crying?

_Why crying?_

What the hell was going on? Were you having some kind of conversation with him without even speaking? Did he know what _you_ were feeling too?

_Yes._

He nodded slowly, eyes watching carefully for your reaction. You knew he was waiting for you to freak out, and you would have been happy to indulge him, but it appeared enough time had passed for Undyne to actually absorb what was happening here because she cleared her throat.

“I’d hate to ruin this weird moment you two are having where you just stare at each other,” she said lowly, “But what the ever-loving _fuck_ is happening?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bolded text indicates the weird thought-conversations Sans and you share. They're intentions, btw, not exactly feelings or emotions, not entirely thoughts or actions. With monsters, intent is everything...

“It’s called a bond.”

You looked up from your mug of hot chocolate to meet Sans’ eyes. You and Sans were sitting on your couch, while Undyne sat on the love seat across your coffee table. She was watching you carefully, her eyes narrowed in thought as she studied your every reaction.

You lowered your eyes, trying not to engage her. You knew the only thing holding her back was Sans and his strange overpowered magic.

“A bond,” you echoed somewhat numbly, taking a small sip of the sweet drink. What you could really go for was a shot or two of whisky, but you wanted a clear head for this explanation. You’d gone long enough without it.

“Yes,” he said softly. He sounded so formal, so detached. His mind was elsewhere, but even you couldn’t tell where it was. All you could feel was a busyness in his head. He was thinking, but at the same time…

**Refrain.**

…holding back.

“What is it?” you asked.

“A connection between two souls,” he said, “You give a part of yourself to them, they give a part of themselves back to you. It’s mutual trust, in the form of a physical codependency involving souls.”

“I never gave you a part of myself,” you answered quickly. “Not voluntarily.”

“You must have,” Undyne cut in bluntly. “This kind of thing doesn’t just happen on accident.”

“Then how did it happen?” You demanded. “Because I did not give a piece of my soul to him. I wouldn’t give a piece of my soul to anyone, so if it’s some kind of conscious ritual between people, how the hell did he end up with a piece of me inside of him?”

You were ranting now, something you haven’t done in years. You prided yourself on your calm demeanor, being able to keep your cool. But now you felt just as hot as Undyne.

“That’s the question,” Undyne said, her voice careful and low, “Isn’t it?”

Her tone confirmed what you already knew – that she still strongly suspected you had something to do with this.

“How do we undo it?” you asked. You wanted her to know this wasn’t intentional, that you weren’t trying to sabotage her or her friend, or attack them in any way. You just slept with the man, for hell’s sake!

And now, your entire life had shifted in a direction you didn’t even know was possible.

Something had happened that made you no longer just you. Now you were a little bit of him. You could feel it; you could hear his feelings, and he already admitted he could hear yours. You were inside each other’s heads. This mysterious, magical stranger you had only met a week ago was now a part of you. A _stranger_ , and now you were learning more about him every second you spent in his presence than you had ever cared to know about any of your clients.

Your client. This man was your client, and now your very souls were bonded.

What did that even mean?

“How do we undo it?” you asked again when no one answered, your voice almost a growl as frustration boiled within you.  
Undyne narrowed her eyes, but you stood your ground. You refused to look away from her, meeting the inferno in her eyes with your own kind of fire – the long-lasting heat of glowing embers.

**Calm. Soothe.**

The fire slowly burned out, replaced with a relaxing chill, and you knew it was Sans because you’d felt that part of him within you whispering his intentions.

The inverted blue heart within yours was Sans. You imagined the bright cyan of his soul encasing the blood red of yours, and the thought filled you with an involuntary, airy feeling that could only be described as bliss.

Mine.

Sans cheekbones flushed with the tiniest hint of cyan at your thought. He could hear you, in some way, just like you could him. Not actual thoughts, it seemed. Just feelings.

Intentions.

You forced your mind out of the feeling. This was not you. You were not thinking these things. You couldn’t be, because you didn’t know Sans. You didn’t love him, you didn’t want him to be yours. You just met him, and these feelings were forcing themselves upon you.

You met his eyes and another flood of warmth filled your heart.

Did you even have a choice?

“You don’t,” Undyne said, an eyebrow raised as she stared between you two. “You don’t undo a bond. It’s permanent. Kinda why it’s _supposed_ to be a meaningful connection between monsters. It’s supposed to be consensual, a decision made after much deliberation."

She paused, standing up angrily. Her hands sparked with energy like she wanted to form another weapon and would have if not for Sans.

“It’s supposed to be intentional,” she continued. “So you can imagine why I’m slightly suspicious of how you managed to form a soul bond with a monster you only just met – a monster who happens to be one of our king’s closest friends and advisors – if you truly don’t even know what it is.”

“You think I’m a spy?”

The thought hit you as soon as she mentioned her king – the King of All Monsters. You’d heard about him in passing, but had never paid enough attention to even know his name.

And Undyne thought you were trying to get close to Sans in order to attack them somehow.

Undyne stood up, and you could see a faint crackle of teal magic sparkling along her arm. Sans tensed beside you, the smile remaining on his face but his whole body on alert.

“Give me an alternative and I’ll consider the possibility that you’re telling the truth,” she snarled, faint wrinkles appearing above her mostly-flat nose.

“Undyne,” Sans said suddenly, “Check her. She’s got Blue.”

You had no idea what that meant, but Undyne must’ve. She looked surprised, then suspicious. She took a closer look at what you now realized was your soul, squinting a little before her eyebrows raised and her entire posture relaxed.

“ _Integrity_ ,” she said softly, mostly to herself. She backed down, and the magic dissipated.

Sans relaxed.

“It’s not fully Blue, Sans,” she said to him, keeping her eyes on you. “And it’s not like Integrity souls can’t lie.”

“Undyne,” Sans said patiently, “I know she’s not lying. We bonded, remember?”

“Exactly,” she said sternly, “You’re compromised. What if this is what they wanted, Sans? She bonds with you, and even if she is lying you would do anything to defend her. Anything to keep her out of harm’s way.”

What? He would... do anything to keep you safe?

“She’s not immune to the side effects either,” said Sans, “Even if she were part of some covert mission, she was stopped the moment the bond was sealed.”

Sans would do anything, and so would you, you realized. Part of your soul was held within his. You wouldn't let him get hurt, because that would mean you would get hurt too. The same applied to Sans. Made sense.

Undyne looked like she was about to say something, but Sans stopped her.

“You know I’m right, Undyne,” he said, “ _Bass_ not to let these _fish_ -tuations out of hand.”

Undyne threw her hands into the air.

“Alright, alright, just let up with the puns!” She cried, glaring at him. You knew there was no real venom in her words, however. The corner of her mouth was hitched upwards in a vain attempt to hide her smile.

And then she turned to you.

“I believe Sans,” she said, “But not you. Not yet. You may have Integrity, but this is too suspicious not to take seriously. I’ll be watching you carefully, human.”

_Great_.

You would have to ask Sans about what was so significant about integrity and the blue color in your soul later. For now, you needed to understand more about these bonds.

“So what changes?” You asked. “Other than the fact that the two of us have pieces of each other’s souls, what does this mean? What happens now?”

Sans and Undyne shared a look, and you grew anxious. All kinds of strange theories were born in your mind, your active imagination taking over. Horrors that you knew weren’t possible back before monsters brought magic back to the surface, and with it, far less limited possibilities.

“Bonds can make the people involved stronger,” Undyne began, “But they also make you both more vulnerable.”

“How so?” You asked.

“You’re bound to him,” she said, “You’re more than just one person now. I’ve never seen it happen between a human and a monster – not personally at least – so I don’t know if you can tap into his magic or Stats. But you’re still more powerful when you’re near him, and so is he.”

“But if we’re apart…” You trailed off, thinking about this week’s horrors. Undyne saw your look and nodded.

“You can’t be apart now,” she said seriously, “Not for too long. Not without consequences.”

Consequences. The sickness, the irritability, the pain.

They were withdrawal symptoms.

“You’re saying I’m _addicted_ to Sans?”

“You’re bound to him,” said Undyne. “A person can’t survive without their entire soul intact. It either has to be whole, or if it’s shattered, it has to be held together by something. Like a bond. You’re each carrying a part of each other’s souls, but if you don’t stick together…”

She didn’t need to finish that sentence to terrify you.

“Guess you’re stuck with me,” said Sans, breaking the tense silence with his calm, casual voice. He got up from the couch and walked to your kitchen. “I really hope you don’t snore. Don’t really remember from last time I was here. Can’t be as bad as Papyrus though.”

“What are you saying?” You asked, “You’re not staying over.”

“You’d rather us both get sick again?” He asked. He had a good point there.

“No,” you said, “But surely we can go a day or two without seeing each other before… Spontaneously combusting or whatever would happen to us.”

“Now that would be a funny way to die,” Sans said from the kitchen.

“Sans,” you said firmly, “This is my home; this is where I work. I can’t bring clients over if you’re here.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” said Sans with a shrug. He got up and walked to your kitchen. You couldn’t feel anything he was feeling. His intentions weren’t whispering to you anymore. What was going on? And why the hell was he not freaking out about this?

“I do!” You exclaimed. “I have a problem with that! Being an escort is my job, it’s most of my livelihood. I’m not going to quit at the drop of the hat for some stranger I’ve happened to bond with.”

“Do you have any milk?” Sans asked from the kitchen. “Oh, here it is.”

“Sans!” You called out, exasperated. What was he doing? Was he really okay with being tied to somebody he barely knew like this? And did he really think you were just going to stand here and take it?

“Yes?”

“I’m not quitting my job,” you said firmly. “There must be some other way. You can’t just move in with me.”

“You’re a lot more stubborn than I remember,” he muttered, keeping his voice down as if he were only talking to himself.

“What?” You asked, dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

“From last week,” he answered, but gave no further explanation.

“Sans is right,” Undyne cut in. When you shot her a glare she raised an eyebrow, just barely keeping herself from rolling her eyes. Oh, you wished she would give you a reason... “You have to stay close to each other.”

You buried your face into your hands, pressing your knuckles against your closed eyes. You were going to take a moment to breathe and focus on waking up, and then you were going to open your eyes and both Sans and Undyne would be gone. You would wake up from this fever dream brought on by the sickness and realize just how silly this all was, how impossible.

But of course, when you sat back up, your eyes working through the purple spots that danced in your vision, you knew they were still here. You were still bonded to Sans the skeleton. You had no choice but to let him stay in your apartment, where you performed most of your services, if you wanted to keep from getting those nasty withdrawal symptoms, or eventually…

**Fine.**

You knew you didn’t have a choice, but hell would freeze over before you let anyone control you like this.

“Sans sleeps on the couch,” you said calmly. The monster in your kitchen didn’t even flinch, continuing to chug his glass of milk. “Undyne stays away. Whenever I have a client over, Sans leaves until they’re gone. And lastly, from this exact moment, everyone who can possibly contribute works on a way to fix this. And I don’t want to hear about it being permanent. Anything that can be done can be _undone_.”

Sans and Undyne exchanged doubtful glances, but you rose from the couch, making sure to capture their undivided attention.

“This will be resolved,” you said firmly, meeting both of their eyes fiercely. “My soul belongs to me and me alone. I will be bound to no one.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I forgot to leave an author's note about how happy it makes me to see all of your wonderful comments. You guys are so insightful and are always inspiring me to keep writing, so just know that even if I don't reply to your comment, I've definitely read it at least twenty times and use it to fuel my determination! Also, this story has 9 chapters and more than 1,000 kudos... Hoo boy I'm gonna have to really try to step up my game and update more often for you guys.
> 
> Anyways, thank you all again and enjoy!
> 
> (No smut in this one btw, but soon...)

Red.

There was so much red.

But even worse was the silver. The silver of their blade. The silver of the dust that coated their small form. You knew exactly whose dust that was, but when you tried to remember the name, you couldn’t.

Spaghetti.

It didn’t have much flavor. The noodles were overcooked, sauce almost unbearably spicy, the shreds of parmesan coating the top looking as if it had actually been set on fire at one point.

But it was perfect. It was home.

Under.

You were under something and it was dark, so dark and you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t—

But then he grabbed you, freezing hands taking yours and pulling you up, up…

You broke the surface of the water like it was glass. It was, you remembered. It was a kind of glass. A glass made of water. And your lungs bit you when you tried to make them remember the sweet taste of air.

Like the sting of their blade when they took two turns.

Your savior swam with you to the shore, his body trembling but yours so much worse. He’d been in there a long time searching for you. You’d been in there longer.

“Dad?”

You didn’t say anything.

You looked up and he was there, face familiar yet foreign. Pale white, eyes darker than midnight, stretched and skewed, warped into a grimace that held a disturbing kind of pain. The pain of loneliness.

His hands moved and you knew the language. He said your name, and you tilted your head. But that wasn’t your name, was it? It had to be; he was talking to you. You watched his hands as he spelled them out again, each letter punctuated by a shrill beeping noise..

S.

A.

N.

S.

 

* * *

 

 

It was your alarm.

You stirred, eyes opening to welcome the morning light streaming through your window. After disarming the screeching machine, you reached over to the small book sitting on your nightstand. You sat up and combed your fingers through your hair, skimming over your schedule for the day. Kerry was coming in at 10, after your shift at your cover job.

You stretched your body as far as it would go, feeling very much like a cat lazing about in the sun. Then, after a full minute or two of mentally convincing yourself, you dragged yourself out of bed.

When you finally emerged from your room, you jumped slightly at the site of Sans on your couch, but after a second you remembered the events of the previous evening and frowned, continuing your trek to the kitchen.

But even passing by him you could feel it: the piece of your soul nestled within his. With each step you distanced yourself from the skeleton, you felt the slightest tug on the rest of your soul inside of your chest.

How had you made it a full week without that part of yourself? Without being whole?

As you made your breakfast you ignored the urge to walk back over to him, to hold him close, press his chest against yours…

Now you knew for certain that it wasn’t a monster thing. It was a bond thing. You wanted the rest of your soul back, and being that close to him was the only way to feel whole again.

You ate your breakfast in relative silence, placing yourself in a seat at the table so you could watch Sans sleep. One of his arms was draped over his tummy – you still weren’t entirely sure how he managed to look slightly chubby when he was wearing clothes – and his face was slightly tilted to one side.

He didn’t snore – at least, not the way you’d experienced with other clients before. Instead, his was a combination of a low humming sound and a very faint whistle.

The smile was gone from his face, as well. The edges of his mouth were turned down in a relaxed frown, and you had a feeling this was his true neutral face. You could recognize the face of someone who’d experienced quite a bit of pain in their life because you knew that face.

It often stared back at you when you looked in a mirror.

You took a sip of your coffee, glancing out the window to derail your mind. Many humans have emotional baggage, and it would make sense for at least some monsters to have dark pasts as well.

Your species did trap them under a mountain for centuries, after all.

Sans stirred in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent that you couldn’t hear from the kitchen table. It did serve to bring your attention back to him, though.

He held a part of you inside himself now, and despite how enraged it made you feel to know there was an infinitesimally small chance of actually getting it back, you couldn’t help but marvel at the mechanics of it all.

Which part of you did he have? What part of him did he give you? If your confusing dreams were any indication, he allowed you some kind of access into his memories when you bonded. You could only assume he was having similar dreams right now.

As you sat there sipping your coffee, Sans could be learning about your first love, and the soul-shattering feeling they gave you when they told you they no longer loved you.

Or maybe he was seeing the accident, just like you did. The car diving into the frozen lake, your father rescuing you. But instead of your father’s face, you saw another. It should have been horrific, like something from a scary movie, but when you looked at that pale, distorted face, your mind still conjured the word, “father.”

You were angry, as you had a right to be, because this stranger now had access to your entire library of memories, emotions, and fears. He could know you inside out with just this one dream.

You suddenly remembered your conversation with him in the café down the street. You’d assured him your services didn’t come with strings attached. You almost laughed out loud.

This was a pretty damn long string.

You checked the time and downed the rest of your coffee, standing to put it in the sink. You considered grabbing your umbrella from its spot by the door because you could see the grey clouds in the sky through your windows, but you decided against it. The weather report said nothing of rain and you had a car anyways – your trip would be entirely sheltered from garage to garage. You took one last look at Sans before closing your front door behind you and locking it.

He didn’t have a key yet, so you knew he was effectively trapped there until you came back. The thought didn’t comfort you, but you gathered every shred of trust you had left for him and used it to walk away from the door. Where would he go, anyways? If he stayed away from you long enough it would kill him.

As you made your way down to your car in the garage, you found your thoughts always turning back to Sans. Was it the bond, or just because he had already managed to firmly plant a bone in the cogs of your operation? Would he think about you just as often? Would he feel the artificial desire for you that you were beginning to feel for him?

The desire that only fueled your frustration. Because not only did he step into your life and exchange a part of his very essence with your own, forcibly tying you together until it was death for you to be apart for too long, but in doing so he gave you feelings you were never supposed to have.

You wanted to leave your car, go back upstairs, and kiss him in his stupid face.

You slammed a fist on the horn of your car, startling other residents of your building who were making their way to their own cars. You waved and apologized, and soon they carried on.

This wasn’t fair; it was manipulative. This wasn’t consensual love; it was the effect of part of your soul being enveloped by another. Even this far away you could feel it, feel _him_ holding you, keeping you safe. Even in his sleep he was protecting you. It was just like Undyne said.

He would do anything for you.

Your hand found its way to your chest before you told it to. Your palm hovered over the area you knew to contain your soul. No, not just yours. His, too.

And you knew then that you had no choice. Not because of him, or the bond, but because of who you were as a person. He was protecting you for his own reasons, but you couldn’t let anything happen to him either. Not just because his death would mean yours as well, but because the tiny inverted heart within your own was fragile, was so small and vulnerable.

And it didn’t belong to you, as much as you felt it should. So you had to protect it. From what, you didn’t know, but…

You would do anything for him too.

 

* * *

 

After work, the rain was coming down hard.

The building you worked in had a garage for its employees, but you couldn’t find a place this morning, and decided to park on the street instead of being late searching for a spot.

Having made it to your car no less than thoroughly soaked and chilled, you peeled off your jacket and turned the heater in your car on.

Except ten minutes into your trek home the heater had yet to warm up the vehicle, and now you were shivering. You were sitting at a red light when it happened. Every single car on the street came to a slow grind, and then completely stopped. You instantly recognized the stillness of the air, the slight tingle of electricity…

A sudden voice breathed into your ear.

“Chilled to the bone, are we?”

Time resumed as you screamed at the top of your lungs. Beside you, sitting in the passenger seat was Sans the skeleton, wincing as you unleashed the power of your vocal chords at him. You stopped as soon as you recognized him, and gasped his name.

“Sans?” You panted, still trembling and not only from the cold, “How the _fuck_ —”

“A little bit of time-space manipulation,” he said calmly with a shrug, “No big deal. I came to check up on you. You felt cold. The light’s green, by the way.”

Your ears were ringing with the sounds of car horns honking behind you, and the sound snapped you out of it just enough to pull ahead and make a turn down a narrow neighborhood street. You pulled over.

“Time-space manipulation?” You asked, turning the car off and pulling the keys from the ignition. You continued trying to slow your pulse, still on edge from his sudden appearance. “I thought you would have answered something along the lines of magic.”

“Nope, this one’s all science,” He said seriously, though of course with his characteristic attitude of nonchalance. “Hey, we’re pretty close to my bro’s place. Wanna meet him?”

“I—,” you stuttered, staring at him incredulously, “What?”

“My brother,” he repeated. “Tall guy, full of sunshine, loves spaghetti almost as much as he does himself? And before you ask, yes he is also made of bones.”

“I…” You trailed off. You couldn't meet his brother, or the rest of his family or friends. You couldn’t become any more attached to this than you already were. Artificial or not, meeting a guy’s relatives was on par with announcing how serious your relationship was, to both the family and to each other. And this wasn’t a relationship.

This was a symbiosis.

“I can’t,” you said softly. When he raised one of his brow ridges, you clarified, covering easily. “I have a client coming over tonight. I have to get ready for her.”

“Her?” Sans asked, surprised. You smiled, glad he was accepting of the subject change.

“Yes, Sans, her,” you stated.

“Kerry doesn’t sound like a girl’s name,” he said.

“She chose to keep her given name,” you explained, before realizing what Sans had implied. “You read my log book.”

“I may have skimmed it.”

“Sans,” you warned, voice low and careful, “You have no business touching that book. I told you that you could stay with me if you kept out of my way. That includes leaving the home while they’re there, and _not_ spying on which clients I’ll be servicing for the night.”

“Maybe I don’t like to share,” Sans huffed, staring hard out the window, his smile gone. The low growl in his throat sounded possessive, _hungry_ , and you fought to contain the effect it was having on your lower regions.

“You’re going to have to learn to,” you said, “I’ve worked too hard to get where I am, and there’s only one reason I have. I _want_ to be here, Sans. I want to please people, to make them happy, and this is the best way I can do that.”

He’d already taken something precious of yours, and you were determined to keep him from taking this.

Sans sat in silence, but it was a slightly complacent silence. You felt his intentions radiate from the small heart in yours.

**Reluctant acceptance.**

You would take it.

You faced forward to start the car again, and were about to take off when time slowed once more. It stopped for a full second before resuming, and without looking, you knew Sans was gone.

He took the warmth with him before you’d even realized he was feeding it to you.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all your comments! Now, prepare for some shit...

Kerry was one of your more interesting clients.

She liked to arrive early and talk for a while before the sex. Though this wasn’t unusual for your clients – most of them seemed to need you as a therapist as much as a great lay – Kerry used this time to discuss instead of vent; she never talked about the negatives in her life.

It wasn’t that she didn’t have her fair share of problems – she was still warring with a few relatives about her being transgender, for one – but she was the very definition of an optimist.

She was also absolutely amazing at giving head.

Kerry sat in the same place Undyne had last night, head resting on her hand as she went on and on about her new job at this law firm. From what you gathered, no one there treated her with the respect she deserved, though she was easily smarter than all of them combined, but of course Kerry didn’t phrase it that way. To her, it was just a new learning experience.

“My mom used to say to me that this world is full of unpleasant people,” she told you after a sip of the wine you’d provided her. “And that it’s a sign of great strength if you can just let their bad energy wash over you. Heh, she always said, ‘if you have to get mad at something, get mad at something worth your anger, like injustice.’ She was a police officer, you know…”

Alright, maybe Kerry did talk a little _too_ much, but it wasn’t exactly unpleasant, and right now you were technically getting paid to just sit here and listen to her, so you didn’t have much room to complain.

“So, what’s going on with you?”

You perked up at the question, red flags going off in your head. This was the point of the night where your clients felt like they’d hogged all the attention, and instead wanted to learn more about you. While you could understand why they wanted to get to know the person they were having sex with, you didn’t want to turn the focus away from your client for too long.

It started feeling like a date, not a service, when they started asking you about yourself.

So, what you’d _normally_ say in answer to this question was something vague, that had just enough substance so your clients wouldn’t feel you were avoiding it. Then you’d find a way to carefully turn the conversation back around to the client without tipping them off. It was a delicate process, but you’d come to master it.

“I’ve had a bit of trouble lately with my parents,” you lied, the words falling out of your mouth easily, “My mother’s trying to remodel her kitchen, but dad’s not having any of it. You know how it is, right?”

“No, no, I don’t mean that kind of stuff,” Kerry insisted, “I mean relationship-wise. You’ve got that glow about you, you know. I can see it in your eyes; you’ve found someone that does it for you, haven’t you? Someone who gives you more than just sex.”

You kept your expression even, though your grip on the wine glass tightened nervously. Kerry was usually quite easy to fool with this tactic. She liked to talk about herself, so why was she so focused on you suddenly?

“I don’t _need_ anything more than sex,” you said without thinking. Then you faltered, trying not to give away your desire to turn the topic around. “But, uh, I, he… I’m not sure that’s appropriate to talk about, given what you and I are about to do.”

What were you doing? This wasn’t like you at all. You were flustered, the words choking out like someone had clogged the pipes in your brain. The only thing between you and Sans was the bond, which, granted, was quite a big thing, but you weren’t going to let it affect your job. You didn’t have any feelings for him.

At least, not genuine ones. There were of course the feelings caused by the bond; feelings you couldn’t help. But they weren’t _real_.

“I knew it!” Kerry almost squealed, setting her wine glass down to lean in closer to you. “Spill, girl! Come on, right now I’m not your client. I’m your friend!”

You didn’t consider Kerry anything other than another client, but of course you didn’t tell her that. You gave your all to the sex, being as free and open as you could be to make it all the better for your clients and yourself, because for you, good sex meant making that connection.

(And look where making that connection had gotten you.)

But when it came to your actual relationship with the client outside of sex, you made sure to be strictly professional. You were selling them a service, and that service did not include a casual relationship of any kind.

So no, Kerry was not a friend. But somehow, maybe because you had few enough of those in your life as it was, you decided to treat her like one.

“Well, it’s complicated,” you said. You weren’t going to tell her Sans was a monster, or that he was a client, or about the bond, so you had to word this carefully. “We don’t exactly get along, despite the… Feelings.”

“Ah, one of those, huh?” She nodded in understanding. “That means the sex is great, at least.”

You hadn’t slept with Sans since the first time, for more than one reason. He never said he still wanted to be a client, for one. The other, much bigger issue was that you were scared of making the bond stronger with further _encouragement_.

And of course there was the fact that you were still angry beyond words about the bond in the first place.

“Yeah,” you lied, “But it’s not exactly ideal. I almost feel like I have no choice in the matter.”

“Well _duh_ ,” said Kerry, playfully swatting at your shoulder. “You don’t ever choose to fall in love with someone. And look, I can tell it’s hard for you. You’re not the type to search for that kind of feeling, so when it hits you, it hits you hard.”

_You have no idea_ , you thought bitterly.

“But if the pieces fit,” she continued, her voice much softer than you’d ever heard it, “If it’s trying to happen, maybe it’s not such a bad thing, you know? You’ve given yourself to a lot of people, hon. Maybe it’s time you got something back. As my mom always used to say, ‘If life gives you a chance, take it.’”

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t have a good response to that. You knew she didn’t understand there was a physical and magical bond between you and Sans that you hadn’t asked for, that was literally feeding you emotions that weren’t yours.

But there was the tiniest part of you – and you knew, somehow, that this time it was actually _you_ feeling it – that was absorbing what she’d said. This wasn’t something you’d asked for, but Kerry had a point. Love wasn’t something that came when called, it was something that happened to you, and if you weren’t prepared for it – as you certainly weren’t – and you weren’t looking for it – as you hadn’t been – it could hit you _hard_.

_If life gives you a chance, take it._

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted. “I don’t even know who he is. I have all these feelings for no good reason and I barely know his name.”

Kerry gave you a look you hadn’t seen since high school, when your girlfriends would tease you about whoever you were crushing on.

“If you don’t know,” she said softly, “Then _learn_.”

“Learn,” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Learn what?”

“What makes him tick,” she said, “What makes him different from everyone else. You study him, and learn the reason you fell for him in the first place. And when you know that, you hold onto it as tight as you can.”

As romantic as that idea sounded, you knew Kerry’s advice didn’t apply here. There was no reason you fell for Sans, other than managing to bond with him. Your soul had just been too open when you’d fucked him, and combined with monster magic and Sans’ _courteous_ lack of informing you of the consequences beforehand, you’d gotten yourself into some serious trouble.

But no, that wasn’t entirely true, was it? Because Undyne said that bonds are a two-way street. Both parties have to consent in order for that connection to form. That means you weren’t the only one with an open soul.

For some reason, Sans had wanted to let you in as well.

As you’d told Kerry, you didn’t know Sans that well. However, you did know that Sans was anything but open. He wore his smile like a mask, and even admitted he didn’t give away secrets. You had a feeling he had quite a lot of those, and that they were _big_ , and that he hadn’t told anyone in his life about them.

So why the hell would he share his soul with a complete stranger? Was it the pressure of keeping himself locked away for who knows how long? Did he feel better opening up to someone he didn’t know in order to save himself possible repercussions?

Whatever the reason, you now had an objective you were determined to complete. You would do as Kerry said; you would study Sans. You would discover what made him tick so that you could figure out why you bonded to him, and why he bonded to you. Maybe when you figured out the reason, you would be closer to finding out how to undo it.

Suddenly, you were all too aware that you’d been quiet for some time, leaving Kerry to sit there sipping wine on your couch. She was your client; she’d come here for sex, and you were just sitting here _thinking_ instead of doing your job.

You leaned in and kissed her, one hand going up to gently cup her cheek. She moaned happily in response, pulling away after a moment to smile at you. You let her pounce on you, pin you to the couch and straddle your hips.

Kerry was a dom all the way; she never bottomed. You didn’t mind; it was great to not have to focus so hard on pleasing your client.

She leaned down and kissed your neck, nipping at your skin because she knew you liked that. You let the sensations take over, closing your eyes to focus on Kerry’s soft, warm tongue running up your neck towards your ear.

But as soon as you did, you saw _him_.

Suddenly, it was _his_ tongue tasting your skin, _his_ teeth skimming along your ear, _his_ voice telling you how hard he was gonna fuck you and how many times he would make you cum.

Kerry’s presence faded away, and you imagined the unique tingle of Sans’ magic dancing along your skin wherever he touched you. You pictured his mouth parting, the disguise falling away to reveal it's true form only for you; the canines that were so tantalizingly sharp, so much more _dangerous_ than anything human.

And worse than being unable to get him out of your head was the nearly unbearable feeling of guilt that washed over you like raw sewage. You felt terrible, disgusting. You were **betraying him, mating with another…**

No, ignore it. They’re not real. This was your job, and you were not betraying Sans, because you didn’t belong to him.

But you did. You were his and he was yours. And if he were doing what you were doing right now, you’d **fucking tear the competition apart…**

There was a sudden, loud noise that you could only describe as an explosion that came from somewhere down the street. Both you and Kerry practically jumped out of your skin. She fell off the couch, and instead of even thinking of trying to help her up, you scrambled off the couch and rushed to the window.

Car alarms were going off on the whole block. A plume of smoke was rising from one car in particular – a blue truck near the end of the block. Or, rather, the melted heap of metal and fire that _remained_ of the blue truck near the end of the block.

“That’s my car!” Kerry cried, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my god!”

What the hell just happened? Your mind raced as you tried to come up with an answer that made sense. Did someone plant a bomb on her car? Was there some kind of terrorist attack? A car accident? Was someone targeting Kerry? If so, was she still in danger? Were _you_ in danger?

Kerry was already halfway out the door before you noticed she was leaving.

“Wait!”

You ran after her, forgetting momentarily the caution you usually exhibited when a client was entering or leaving your apartment. The few neighbors you had on this floor weren’t paying any attention anyways, too busy worriedly talking to each other about what was happening outside.

You managed to make it to the elevator she was in just before it closed.

“Kerry, what the hell are you doing?” You panted from the effort it took to sprint. “That was your car, what if someone was trying to get to you?”

“What?” She looked fearful, but managed to raise a confused eyebrow at you. “I just started work as a lowly assistant at a law firm. I haven’t taken on any cases yet. No one is targeting me!”

“Then why did they blow up your car?”

“No one blew up my car,” she said, looking at you in concern. “There was an accident. Someone must have driven into it. I’m not exactly in the mob or anything, hon.”

You paused, taking her words in. She was right; this was probably just an accident. Why would anyone target Kerry? She wouldn’t hurt a fly, and even if some asshole were crazy enough to attack her for being transgender, she didn’t exactly look the part. If that crazy asshole were one of her coworkers, they’d have had to talk to her in order for her to tell them, and Kerry would have known if they didn’t approve. Thankfully the lack of respect at her new job wasn’t due to her being trans; it was because she was relatively new to the field.

“You’re right,” you said after a moment, “But I’m going with you anyways. There’s of course no charge for tonight, either.”

She nodded absently, already on the phone with someone and explaining the situation to them. The elevator doors opened to the lobby and you followed her out, passing the gentians Sans plucked for you the other night.

You speed walked out the door and down the block towards the accident. Fire trucks were already on the scene and spraying down the fire, along with policemen who were questioning eyewitnesses.

You passed them all, following closely behind Kerry. You knew it was paranoid to think she was being deliberately attacked, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t an accident.

“Ma’am, is this your car?”

You turned to see one of the policemen walking toward Kerry. Her eyes were locked on the ruined mess of her vehicle, her mouth open in stunned silence, but she nodded anyways.

You were still fairly far from the burning car, the area having been contained by the safety workers, but you could now see the second car beside Kerry’s. A red sedan embedded in the side of the pickup, nearly melded to it from the force of the impact.

“I heard one of the police say all the cameras on the block malfunctioned.”

You tore your eyes from the crash to look over at one of the small group of people a few feet away from you.

“I don’t remember hearing any tires squealing,” said another. You vaguely recognized her as one of the workers from a restaurant down the block. She was still wearing her uniform.

“Me neither,” the first said again. A man you didn’t recognize. He was holding the woman, seemingly trying to comfort her despite the fact that she seemed mostly unfazed by the accident. A lover, perhaps?

“So what,” continued the woman, “A car explodes, and then another car rams into it?”

“The chances of that aren’t exactly infinitesimal,” came another voice. Another man, maybe one of their friends. “The second driver could have been blinded by the flash from the explosion, and collided with the car.”

“Except there was no second driver,” said the girl, her eyes narrowed on the wreckage. “I didn’t see anyone come out, and there’s nobody in the ambulances.”

“Unless they’re still in the car,” the first man mumbled, shivering. The group fell silent at the remark, and the chill of the night suddenly felt much colder against your skin.

Did someone die here tonight?

You were so lost in that thought that you barely noticed as time slowed around you, then stopped. Half a second later, it resumed. But you did recognize the shift, and could sense Sans’s presence before you saw him.

“Did you see what happened?” You asked him, still staring ahead at the wreckage.

“No,” he said a bit too quickly, his answer too firm. “I didn’t.”

You glanced at him without turning your head and saw his expression. Concern, a tightness to his smile that indicated fear.

It was Kerry’s car that had been hit. Kerry was your client for the evening. Sans was bound to your soul, and cannot simply fight his instincts to keep you both safe and by his side. He would do anything for you, and because part of his soul is inside yours, that includes anything for himself as well.

He would do **anything...**

“Sans…” you said, your voice barely coming out as a hoarse whisper.

He closed his eye sockets, shutting out the world around him as you asked the question you weren’t sure you wanted the answer to.

“ _What did you do?_ ”


End file.
